


The Question Lingers

by blacklitchick



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-19 16:23:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 48,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4752995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacklitchick/pseuds/blacklitchick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Could she be his calling? (Non-Zombie Richonne AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**  I don't own any of these characters.

The loud squawk of a bird flying over the modest house could be heard through the open window. Rick groaned as he was jolted from his deep slumber. He laid in the middle of the bed on his stomach with one leg stretched out and the other bent at the knee. Raising his head; he coughed a few times feeling the pressure in his whole torso. A light drool pooled at the corner of his mouth. Trying to gather his bearings, he flipped over onto his back and slowly blinked his eyes. He focused on the ceiling fan as he chased the last remnants of his dream. The whirring of the blades and his heavy breathing were the only sounds in the room. Before he could catch it in his grasp the dream faded from memory. All he remembered were the vivid colors and her. She was hard to forget. It was the fourth time that week she was front and center starring in his subconscious. Her bright smile and especially those eyes stayed with him; almost haunting his waking hours. He could still feel those dark brown orbs staring into his soul radiating love and understanding. Turning to his side, he hugged a pillow to his chest and tried to slow down his breathing enough to beckon sleep back to him. He needed to meet her again on whatever ethereal plane she existed.

The heat of the early morning sun made the stuffiness of the room suffocating. He flipped back over while flexing his right hand. The tightness wasn't helping his bid to fall back to sleep. He knew from experience the ache would soon turn almost unbearable. He stared at the scar sitting diagonal across the palm. It was almost pulsating with each thread of pain. Realizing it was no use lying there any longer, he swung his feet to the floor while pulling his t-shirt over his head. He used it to wipe the sweat from his face before tossing it to the corner where the rest of his dirty laundry was piling up.

He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as he scratched at his chest with his left hand; feeling the coarse salt and pepper hair. The hall was a lot cooler than the bedroom. His sweat-soaked skin prickled with goose bumps as he was only wearing his boxers. Momentary panic overtook him when he stuck his head into Carl's empty room until he remembered he'd dropped his son off at Lori's parents' house the day before. The boy was spending the summer with his grandparents.

He shuffled passed the guest room to the bathroom. He paused gripping the doorjamb with his good hand. The pain was becoming worse. He took a few deep breaths and continued on into bathroom. His reflection in the mirror didn't garner much more than a glance. The bloodshot eyes and bearded face wasn't worth seeing. He smiled slightly remembering Carl told him he looked like Moses the other day. He missed the kid already, but knew it was best his son got away from the gloom of that house for awhile.

The bottle of hydrocodone was waiting for him on the counter where he left it the night before. After relieving his bladder he grabbed the pills and eased down the stairs. Moving around first thing in the morning always increased the chronic pain on his right side. At the bottom of the stairs he was met with an announcer's voice promising the downtrodden success if they attended the latest for profit technical school. Rick couldn't remember if it was him who'd left the TV on when he went to bed the night before. He stopped short when he saw Lori sitting on the edge of the couch; her forehead creased in worry. She regarded him silently. He kept the unkind words festering in his mind to himself as he continued to walk to the kitchen.

The refrigerator was almost bare except for a two-day old box of pizza, three bottles are water and a six-pack of beer. He grabbed a beer and a slice of pizza before joining his wife in the living room. He sat on the opposite end of the couch from Lori and changed the channel to  _The Price is Right_. Using his teeth he opened the bottle of beer and popped two pills into his mouth. Without having to turn his head he could feel Lori's stare judging him. He lifted his beer to her in a mock salute before downing half in one swallow.

The cold pizza felt rubbery on his tongue. The cheese had hardened and the saltiness of the pepperoni was more pronounced than usual. He looked at his wife from the corner of his eyes. "I don't know why  _you're_  the one not talking to me. I'm not the one who caused all of this trouble."

The woman sat with her hands folded in her lap. She just shook her head and looked away from him; wetness framed her lashes. Rick rolled his eyes at her trying to manipulate him with another crying jag. He decided to ignore her this time as he ran his hand through his hair making the already unruly curls stick up even more.

By the time the mid-day news signed off to make way for the afternoon soap operas the pain in his hand had gone from excruciating to an annoying throb. Though the usual numbness in his ring and index fingers remained. His service weapon laid on the coffee table covered in mail and old newspapers. Rick swept the papers to the floor. He flexed his hand again trying to get the blood pumping into the damaged nerves. He covered the gun with his whole hand before wrapping the fingers around the handle. His face contorted in pain as he raised the gun and pointed it at the TV. Making sure the safety was still on, he tried to push in the trigger, but he couldn't get his fingers to cooperate.

He threw the gun back down to the table before settling into the couch with his third beer for the latest episode of  _Maury._ The ring of his cell phone interrupted the mindless entertainment he was trying to loose himself in. He hit mute on the TV when he saw King's County Sheriff's Office flash across his caller ID. His boss was calling again. Thoughts of ignoring the call flashed through his head, but after the fifth ring he took one more sip of beer before pressing the talk button.

"Grimes, please tell me why I just got a call from the gotdamn psychiatrist office telling me you missed your last two appointments?" His boss said as a way of greeting.

Rick sighed and covered his eyes with his left hand. "Ned, I thought it was only one session. I didn't know I had to see him again."

"Don't bullshit me, Grimes. You know that shit is mandatory."

"I don't see the point of going to talk to some stranger every week. I don't need it. I'm fine. I'm ready to come back to full duty."

"Not yet. Neither your head doctor nor your primary doctor has cleared you for duty. And we still need to find you a new partner." Rick glanced over at Lori at that. "Look, Grimes," Ned continued in a softer tone, "you know I want nothing more than to have you back, but you've been through a lot these past few months. This time off is the blessing you need. These dumbass criminals aren't going anywhere. Your job will be here waiting for you. Take your time." His voice went back to his naturally hardened tone. "Now you have an appointment at 2:00 pm today. I strongly advise that your ass be lying on the shrink's couch ready to talk no later than 2:01 pm."

Rick nodded before realizing the man couldn't see him. "Yeah. Okay. I'll be there, Sheriff."

He threw the phone on the couch where it made a small thud before bouncing to the floor. He dusted off the pizza crumbs that covered his bare chest, and stood up with a groan; his knees cracking. The stiffness of his body made him lurch forward to the stairs. "I guess I'm going to get my head shrunk." He called to Lori over his shoulder. "Maybe I'll let him know about all of your shit."

Lori disappeared into the kitchen; her dress almost floating behind her. Rick expected to hear the sounds of her slamming the cabinet doors; the tell-tale sign of her anger. But he was only met with silence.

It was 1:56 pm when he parked his truck in the garage attached to the five-story building. Rick sat there with his hands still holding the steering wheel. The right one started to shake. "Shit," he mumbled under his breath as he closed his eyes tightly. He hadn't had an attack of the shakes for almost a week. He thought he'd finally cleared that hurdle. Blindly he reached into the glove compartment for his bottle of pills. He shook out two directly into his mouth and threw his head back swallowing them dry. After counting down from a hundred to zero he felt himself calm down and the shakes subside. He opened his eyes. From his rear view mirror he could see the cane prescribed to him for walking long distances laying on the backseat. The original plastic was still wrapped around it. He sighed and willed himself out of the truck; walking on his own.

Dr. Franklin's office was filled with warm browns and beiges with a touch of green here and there. Rick figured it was a way to generate warmth so the patients would feel comfortable spilling their secrets, but it put him more on edge. He sat across from the doctor with his baseball cap pulled low on his head and his arms crossed. The older man with his black-rimmed glasses and graying hair had several pieces of medium sized cardboard rectangles faced down in his lap. He pulled up the first one featuring abstract splotches of ink. Rick raised an eyebrow silently asking if the doctor was for real with this.

"Just tell me what first comes to your mind when you look at the ink," the doctor said. He lifted the cardboard a little higher. "Let's start with this one."

Rick studied the weird shapes in the image. "Ram," he finally said.

"And this one?"

"Clown."

"And this?"

"The Penguin from the old Batman TV show."

Knowing Rick's monotone responses weren't getting them anywhere, Dr. Franklin placed the pictures to the side and leaned forward. "It's no secret you would probably prefer to be anywhere other than this office, but this session and the many more that will come after are mandatory. You may as well get something good out of it. Wouldn't you agree, Rick?"

Rick just shrugged his shoulders and rested one leg on top of the other.

Not deterred by the man's silence Dr. Franklin picked up Rick's file and took a quick scan of the pages. "The last few months have been rough for you."

"That's what people keep telling me," Rick said dryly.

"Do you want to talk about that night?"

Rick picked at a piece of string that was unraveling from his sock. "According to my wife I'm the most non-talking son-of-a-bitch that ever lived so I guess I don't have a lot to say about that night or any others."

Dr. Franklin perked up at the mention of his wife. "This is the first time you mentioned Lori. It would help sort out everything that has happened if you verbalize your feelings."

Rick cocked his head to the side. "I don't feel anything, doc."

"The trauma you suffered -"

"I didn't suffer," Rick said cutting him off. "I endured. I got stronger, and I'm almost back to my old self again." A sharp pain shot through his right palm reminding him of the half truths he was telling the doctor. He clasped his hands together trying to use his left palm to massage the right.

Dr. Franklin looked at the file again. "We can leave thoughts about Lori until later. How about we speak on Shane? That relationship spanned a couple decades. It seems he was almost as important to you as your wife. How does it feel not to have that friendship; that partnership anymore?"

Rick gritted his teeth and rolled his shoulders back. "If I won't talk about Lori why the fuck would I say one word about Shane," he said in a low growl.

The doctor closed the file and tossed it behind him on his desk. "We don't have the talk about Shane or Lori right now, Rick," he said calmly. "We can talk about whatever you would like. Your physician, Dr. Miller, is unsure if you can return to full duty any time soon. If at all. How do you feel about having a desk job the rest of your career?"

Rick took off his cap and used his left hand to scratch the top of his head. He was getting more and more frustrated as the session went on. "That's just one man's opinion. He's not God or whoever's up there in the sky orchestrating our lives. I'm a Sherriff's Deputy. I've been one since I was 21 years old, and that's what I'll be until the day I retire."

"You tie your identity to helping and protecting people. If you couldn't do that anymore do you feel your life's no longer worthy?"

"I have a son. Carl will always make my life worthy." Rick put up his hand stopping the next set of questions he knew was about to come from the doctor. "And no I don't want to talk about my son either."

Dr. Franklin rolled up the sleeves of his navy blue button down shirt and sat back in his chair. "Then you lead the conversation, Rick. Tell me what's on your mind."

Rick bit his lip and shook his head. "Absolutely nothing, Doc."

"Well, if we can circle back to that night-"

Rick stood up quickly; his frustration boiling over. "That's it I'm out of here. My hour is almost up anyway." He grabbed at his side. The sudden movement made the pain more pronounced. "They can make me come here every week, but I don't have to tell you shit."

Dr. Franklin stood also. "That is true, Rick, but I must emphasize the importance of taking these sessions seriously. If for no other reason than my analysis will be instrumental in the Sheriff's Office deciding whether or not to let you get back to active duty."

Rick stood in front of the bookcase nearly trembling from the combination of anger, pain, and fear. His shoulders slumped when he came to the realization the doctor was right."Yeah, well I guess I do need you," he mumbled.

"Excellent." The doctor clapped his hands together. "I'm glad we came to an agreement. Now for the next couple of weeks I'll be in Europe attending two medical conferences. I'm leaving you in the very capable hands of one of my colleagues, Dr. Lewis."

"Hmmm," was Rick's low grunted response. It didn't matter to him what doctor he saw. They were all the same to him.

"If you'll just step out into the waiting area I'll gather your files together and walk you to her office to make the introductions."

Rick treaded into the waiting room wishing he'd hadn't left his pills in the truck. Lori was there sitting on one of the hard backed chairs. He blew out a breath and sat on the couch across from her. "I thought you were going to stay at home this time," he said. "Don't worry I didn't talk about you if that's why you decided to follow me here."

She didn't have time to respond as Dr. Franklin came out of his office. He gestured with his hand towards a door adjoining the waiting room. "Right this way."

Rick looked back before following the doctor. Lori was wiping the tears from her eyes with a white handkerchief. His jaw tightened trying not to be overcome by the sight.

Dr. Franklin led him down to the end of a long hallway. Rick was slightly out of breath and had to lean against the wall when they finally stopped. The doctor tapped a couple times on half-opened door before stepping inside the office. "Dr. Lewis, I would like to introduce you to Rick Grimes. He'll be all yours for the next couple of weeks. Rick this is Dr. Michonne Lewis."

Rick conjured up enough strength to walk up to the opening of the door. There he paused unable to make his legs move to take a step inside the office. His brain was working overtime trying to put the pieces together. He took in her dark skin and how the yellow blouse complimented it perfectly. The long dreads pulled into a ponytail making her beautiful face stand out. Her kind smile making her whole being radiate. Finally, it was the eyes that did him in. Those big, beautiful, expressive brown eyes staring into his soul as they had so many times before.

Dr. Michonne Lewis was the woman from his dreams.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the reviews, favorites, and follows. As always it's appreciated. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I'm not sure how I came up with this. I started off trying to write a fluffy one-shot, and this is what came out instead. I guess my brain isn't capable of fluff! I hope you enjoy the latest chapter.

**6 Months Ago**

Darkness enclosed in on him as he lay on the living room couch. All of the blinds and curtains were closed tight. His chest moved up and down in rapid succession trying to practice the pain management techniques he'd learned during his hospital stay. Only home for two hours and he was already missing the drip of morphine into his veins. His cousin, in town from Senoia to help get him settled, was at the pharmacy to get his pain medication filled. Rick thought about going to the bathroom to look for some ibuprofen to take the edge off, but he wasn't confident in his ability to get up the stairs.

He sat up gingerly, careful of his right side. Two light claps of his bandaged hands illuminated the room - a gift from his fellow deputies. The wince that escaped his lips couldn't be helped as his squinted eyes roamed the area. It was a weird feeling to see everything look practically the same as it did the night everything happened. He'd rushed out of there not expecting he'd return weeks later a totally different man.

His eyes landed on the mantle where several of his and Lori's wedding pictures were displayed. He stood carefully and limped over to get a closer look. The bright smiles as they stared into each other's eyes no longer looked genuine to him.

"Were we ever truly happy?" He muttered to himself.

He touched one finger to Lori's glowing face and traced down the outline of her body. The flowers in her hands were picked from his aunt's garden. The cake was his mother's special recipe. It was a low-budget wedding. She told him it didn't matter to her. Marrying him was all that she wanted. Rick wondered if that's when the lies began.

Dormant rage - making him forget his physical pain - bubbled to the surface as he swept the pictures to the floor.

"You ruined everything," he yelled. "Gotdamn you Lori. I loved you, and this is what you do to me." His foot stomped down on the pictures causing shards of glass to pierce the bottom of his foot. The repeated action smeared blood on the young couple's smiling faces making the supposed happy union look macabre.

Sweat and spittle poured from his face as the pictures started to rip from the force. He didn't stop until he felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around his waist; wetness soaked through the back his t-shirt.

"Dad, stop," came the muffled cry of Carl. "You're hurting yourself. Please!"

Coming down from his adrenaline fueled daze, Rick turned his head to see his son's face buried in his back. The boy's whole body shuddered as deep sobs racked though him. When he finally looked up at his father Rick's heart constricted at the amount of fear in his son's eyes.

"I need you Dad. Please don't leave me too."

* * *

 

**Present Day**

Rick pushed the cart down the frozen foods aisle at Wal-Mart. Holding his head down, he tried the best he could to ignore the stares of the townspeople. For months he'd been the hot topic of gossip. He'd hoped it would have died down by now. Though his recluse nature of the last few months probably made them even more intrigued.

He stopped at the freezer that held the microwavable dinners; loading enough in his cart to last a month. Craning his head to the side to look for the beer aisle he stopped short when a little girl about two years old ran up to him and grabbed a hold of his leg. She smiled up at him; her bright blue eyes sparkling in mischief. Those eyes coupled with her dark curly hair made the child look as if she could have been sired by him and Lori. "Hi, Mister," she said.

Rick just looked down at her not sure what to do. He was thankful when her mother ran over and untangled her. "Katelyn, you get over here now. I'm so sorry, Deputy Grimes," she picked up the little girl; swinging the child to her hip. "She's just real friendly is all."

"It's fine," Rick said. The young mother looked as if she wanted to say more, but he turned his back pretending grab more items from the freezer.

"Well, um bye, sir." She said turning away and walking down to the opposite end of the aisle. He lifted his head in time to see the little girl wave to him over her mother's shoulder. A deep sadness sat on his chest.

Grabbing two six-packs on the way out of the grocery section he rolled his cart quickly through the baby aisle to the men's clothing section. A full length mirror was on display near the dressing rooms. His old Atlanta Braves t-shirt and jean shorts looked as they'd seen better days. Beard was still out of control; eyes red. A simple blue button-down shirt was hanging next to him on the clearance rack. He took a second to look at it before throwing it in the cart. All of his good clothes were currently sitting in a dirty pile. He didn't want to show up to his first appointment with Dr. Lewis the next afternoon looking like a bum.

He'd dreamed about her every night since their introduction almost a week ago. The details were still fleeting, but he could remember snapshots here and there. Mountains. A hawk. Them lying near a body of water. Her palm caressing his bare chest as she kissed his cheek. A snake shedding its skin. It made no sense to him, but he always woke up feeling a few moments of comfort before reality came rushing back.

Reality now consisted of a long line in pharmacy for a refill of his medication. The racks of items that lined the pathway to the pharmacist were filled with a variety of items. He spied a travel shaving kit, and store brand eye-water. He grabbed two of each item. When he finally reached the front of the line he put the items on the counter. "Can you ring these up too?" He asked the pharmacy tech.

"Sure thing, Deputy Grimes. If you want I can ring up your groceries and that nice shirt too. No use going all the way back to the front of the store to checkout when we've got a good ol' cash register right here."

"Thanks. That'll be great," Rick said as he tried not to let out a sigh of relief. His body was starting to protest being made to walk all over the huge store.

The woman's thick, red hair fell in her face as she swiped the contents of Rick's cart. She looked at him periodically and smiled. "You probably don't remember me. I'm Marissa. Lori's friend from high school. She invited me to you all's wedding all them years ago, but I was out of town visiting my sick grandma that weekend."

"Hmmm," was all Rick said as he focused on screen displaying the price of each of his purchases. He didn't want to encourage further conversation.

"I'm just wanted you to know how sorry I am about everything. Me and my mama was just talking the other day about how Lori was the sweetest thing in high school. So pretty and popular. I don't know how - "

"Are we done here?" Rick cut her off before she went further down memory lane.

Marissa seemed slightly taken aback at first by the man's rough response, but then looked at him in sympathy. "Forgive my manners. If Mama says it once, she says it twice. I just go running off at the mouth too much. The good Lord made us able to close it for a reason."

She slightly brushed up against him as she bagged the last of his items and placed them in the basket. Rick tried to swipe his debit card, but it kept slipping from his uncooperative fingers. Marissa grabbed the card to swipe it herself.

"Don't strain yourself darling. I can help you. I'll just mark it as a credit," she said as her fingers made quick work of punching the buttons on the touch screen.

Rick stood there looking down at his hand trying not to think about its betrayal. The receipt printed, and she wrote quickly on the back of the paper before handing it to him. "If you ever want to talk or anything give me a call. I'ma great listener. A great cook too. A man in your condition shouldn't have to eat TV dinners every day."

He jammed the receipt into his pocket. Without saying a word he pushed his cart to the exit. Before reaching the parking lot he'd opened his new bottle of pills and swallowed one.

* * *

 

Rick never noticed before the smallness of the waiting area of Psychiatrist's office. He was late the couple times he'd been there to see Dr. Franklin. No time to sit and wait. Now thirty minutes early for his appointment with Dr. Lewis he sat on the hard chair with his palms sweating. He tried to rub them discreetly on the legs of his jeans, but stopped when he felt the stinging sensation. He wanted to pace back and forth around the room , but worried his body to tire out before he saw her. At the same time sitting too long made his body stiffen up. He didn't want to seem like an old man when he greeted her.

A small mirror was sitting directly across from him on the wall. He ran his hand over his newly shaved face. The smoothness was still a shock after months of wearing the hairy beard. His curly hair was still too long, but it was brushed back in neat waves. Though the new shirt fit a bit too loosely it complimented his eyes perfectly. He almost looked like his old self.

Trying to keep the blood flowing through his body, he rotated his shoulders and tilted his head from side to side. He stood when he heard the door start to open. Smoothing down the front of his shirt he turned towards the door ready to reach out his hand to shake hers but he was met with a blonde woman instead.

"Mr. Grimes?" The woman stood in the doorway with a stack on files hugged to her body. "Dr. Lewis will see you now." Rick followed her down the long hallway to the office.

The woman from his dreams was sitting behind her desk. A wide smile broke out on her face when she saw Rick walk in. "Mr. Grimes. So good to see you again." She gripped his hand in a firm handshake.

He fought to urge to hold on to her hand longer than necessary. "You can just call me Rick, Dr. Lewis."

"And you can call me Michonne." She sat on the edge of her desk and gestured around the office with her hand. "Make yourself comfortable. Sit on the chair or lie on the couch. Hell, kick off your shoes if you want. I want this to be a place of sanctuary for you."

Rick's mouth upturned in a slight smile. He eased his body down on the couch, but the shoes stayed on.

She reached behind her to grab some papers from her desk. "So, I've been pouring over your files. It's quite the read."

"Please don't tell me I've had a rough couple of months."

Michonne raised an eyebrow at him. "I guess you've heard that a lot."

"More times than I can count."

She put the file aside. "Okay then. New subject. You a football fan? I love the game." She went on when he nodded. "What's going on with the Falcons? Matt Ryan is pretty good, but I don't know if he'll ever get us to the Super Bowl."

Rick chuckled and scratched behind his ear. "He's no Aaron Rodgers, but I think we have as good a chance of anyone else in the NFC."

"You're pretty confident in our squad. I'm going to take that with me into the season, but the sacrifices I would make to get Peyton Manning on this team." She crossed her legs at the ankles and folded her arms across her chest. "Anything else you want to talk about?"

He shook his head and shrugged trying not to let his eyes roam over her legs in her slim, black pants.

"If you don't want to talk we can talk about me. I love talking about myself. I'm quite the fascinating person." She laughed.

It sounded musical to Rick. He hoped to hear it in his dreams that night. Pictures of two girls and three boys sat on the file cabinets behind her desk. "You have kids?"

She followed his eyes over her shoulder. "No. They're not mine. My ex-husband and I never stopped arguing long enough in our very short marriage to actually make that happen. I do spoil my nieces and nephews rotten though. I buy them the noisiest toys I can find. Their parents absolutely hate me for it."

She walked over to the couch and plopped down next to Rick; surprising him. "You may not want to take off your shoes, but mine are coming off." She kicked out of her four inch stilettos. "Heels are a torture device invented by male sadists." She brought her legs up on the couch and tucked them under her. Resting her face on her hand she looked at him closely. "How's your day going, Rick? Anything interesting happen?"

He breathed in deep before answering. "It's going as well as it can I guess."

"How can it get better? How can I make it better?"

Rick blushed knowing he couldn't say the first thought that came to his mind. He rubbed his palms against his jeans again. "You can tell my boss I'm ready to come back to work. I miss it."

"Being a cop seems to be in your blood. Was your Dad one?"

"That he was. Did you read that in my file?"

"I did not. I'm just really good at my job." She sat up a little straighter. "You looked up to him all your life."

Rick nodded his head. "I did. Him and Gramps. In their small ways they tried to do some good in this world. Always wanted to be like them."

"What about your son? Do you want him to continue this legacy of the Grimes men?"

"My son is already better than all of us. Definitely better than me. Carl makes me proud to be his Dad."

"I think you're a very good Dad. I can tell by the smile on your face when you said his name. Do you think you're a good man?"

"I really don't think about it."

"I bet you do, Rick. I have brand-new crisp dollar bill in my purse that I will give to you right now if I'm wrong about you spending restless nights fretting about how you failed the people in your life."

Rick looked down to the floor suddenly finding the patterns of the carpet quite interesting. "You're too good at this."

She smiled and nudged his shoulder with her hand. "Hey, I told you. That's why the Sheriff's office pays me the big bucks."

Rick stared into her eyes completely fascinated by her. He sat back further into the couch. "I worry about my son. What all of this is doing to him. I sent him away to be his grandparents for awhile. It was doing him no good to see me like this."

"Like how?"

"Like the broken man I've become." He surprised himself by the truthfulness of that statement. It was the first time he admitted it to himself. "If it wasn't for him. I don't know if I could have..." He trailed off.

Michonne patted his knee. "I understand."

He looked down at her hand studying the smooth, dark skin and the red painted nails. "What do you know about dreams?" He asked her.

"Are we talking aspirations or what goes on in our heads at night?"

"The nightly dreams."

"Well to get super psychological on you, Freud thought dreams were a pathway for repressed desires to become aware to the conscious mind. You may be longing for something, but never realize it in your waking state. The ego's defenses are lowered when we sleep. He believed dreams were our wish-fulfillments. Our mind is trying to make what's wrong with us, with our loved ones, with the world, etc. better. Then there's his whole thing with symbolism and phallic items, but that's whole other level." She laughed.

"But there are many theories on dreams," she went on. "The activation-synthesis model is more scientific. While the information-processing theory is similar to Freud's in a way. Our mind constantly collects information. The sleeping mind puts all of those images and memories together to form a narrative. Theoretically a person may have repressed something that happened years ago, and it finally comes to the forefront in their dreams. That was probably way more than you wanted to know though. Tell me why you're asking about dreams."

He took a few moments to collect his thoughts before answering. "What if you dreamed about something before it happened?"

Michonne tilted her head to the side. "What have you been dreaming about, Rick?"

"I dreamed about this um...person for many nights. I'd never seen that person before then I finally met...them. It was a shock to say the least."

"Wow. That's heavy. Are you sure you never saw this person before? You may have seen him or her in passing days, months, or even years ago. And now for some reason your brain is bringing the person back to your conscious mind."

"But could it mean something more?"

"You seem to be talking more spiritual than science."

"Maybe. I guess what I'm asking is can dreams predict the future."

"Like a premonition, perhaps?"

"Premonitions are always bad, right? This wasn't bad. It felt right. More right than anything has in awhile."

Michonne stood and walked over to the far wall of her office. She placed her hand on a framed painting hanging there. "My grandmother painted this when she was thirteen. She was quite the woman. Jack-of-all-trades. Master of each and every one. She grew up in this itty-bitty town in Georgia. Her father was the greatly revered pastor of the black church. She was set to wed the deacon's son just after her twentieth birthday. The night before the wedding she had this dream where she was walking on a cliff wearing her white dress. She suddenly fell off the edge plunging into deep, icy water. After she hit the bottom she saw a hawk trapped in a cage of twigs. It looked her right in the eye and opened its mouth speaking with the voice of a human. The voice of the woman the town thought was a voodoo priestess. The hawk told her to get out while she could. Her purpose on earth was not to be married to the church for the rest of her life. She did just that the next morning. Left her poor groom at the altar. Needless to say she was the talk of the town for awhile. Especially when she renounced Christianity. She studied at the voodoo woman's feet. Eventually becoming an astrologer and a tarot reader among many other things."

Rick squinted his eyes remembering the hawk from his own dream. "So what did the hawk represent?"

"She told me dreams featuring hawks means you're looking for enlightenment. For a higher meaning in life. If that hawk is trapped in a cage then you need to break away from a restricting relationship."

"And snakes? Did she ever tell you about what snakes mean?"

"Depends on what the snake is doing. If it sheds its skin then you are feeling limited and have outgrown your present condition."

Rick nodded. His mind was trying to process everything she told him. "Do you believe in any of that?"

Michonne put her hands on her hips and furrowed her brow. "Well, I'm a medical doctor so I'm not supposed to believe any of that is true, but I can easily marry science with a higher power. It's hard to discount some of the things I've seen my grandmother do. I also believe in fate and a higher power. We all have free will, but some things are just written in the stars."

Rick chuckled without any humor. "I think the stars have turned against me lately."

"Maybe the problem is you're not following your fate." She walked back over to Rick; pulling up a chair to sit directly in front of him. "I want you to answer three questions for me. I ask them to all of my new patients." She took his hands in hers. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Rick said with a conviction that surprised him.

"Good. Say the first thing that comes to your mind. Don't try to think too hard about the answers. Okay?" He nodded. "Question one is where would you go if you could be anywhere in the world right now."

"Gramps' farm on a beautiful day. He and Dad would still be alive. Carl is there with us."

"Question two. Where do you see yourself six months from now?"

"Back at work. Taking care of my son."

"Last question. What do you see when you close your eyes?"

Rick had to stop himself from saying 'you.' Instead he said, "A dark void."

"What do you want to see?"

"I thought it was only three questions."

"Humor me."

Rick closed his eyes and gripped her hands tighter. "Happiness."

 


	3. Chapter 3

Rick's eyes squinted at the small writing on the screen. The words were starting to blend together. The reading glasses he'd bought at the drug store were hooked on the collar of his shirt. Though loath to do it, he slipped the glasses onto his face. His eyes had been going south since he turned forty-two a few months ago. Moving closer to the screen, he tried to find the section he was looking for. The sound of his pencil scribbling on the piece of scratch paper echoed in the nearly empty room. He pushed his chair away from the table with a sigh. Searching for books in the library was a lot different than he was used to. The days of the card catalog were long gone. At least the Dewey Decimal System was still intact.

He moved slowly up and down the many aisles until he found the books on religion and spirituality. He felt overwhelmed by the vast amount of books on the subject of dreams, their interpretations and other spiritual things. Besides the psychological perspectives there were countless books divided by religion and culture. Playing it safe he picked  _Llewllyn's_   _Complete Dictionary of Dreams_ for a start. The front cover boasted over one thousand dream symbols and meanings.

He also found copies of  _Marvel Comics: The Untold Story_  and  _The Joker: A Celebration of 75 Years._  Carl had taken both of those books to read over the summer while at his grandparents' house. Rick wanted to have something else to talk to his son about besides the upheaval their lives had become.

A bored teenager with purple hair and heavy mascara manned the front desk. Her gum popping and severe eye-roll let him know she was annoyed that he was making her do actual work. Despite the fact he was the only person in line, it took longer than necessary for him to check-out. The teen couldn't go a few seconds without typing into her phone. As Rick waited – as patiently as he could – he saw a copy of  _The Woman in Black: A Ghost Story_  in sitting in the return bin. On a whim he grabbed the book, and it added to his pile.

"Aren't you too old to be reading about comic books?" The girl sneered at him.

"That I am," he said while handing her his library card.

He shielded his eyes as he stepped out of the library. July in Georgia was usually a brutal affair, but there was an actual breeze in the air and the sky was an endless blue. The diner where he used to spend many of his lunch and dinner breaks was across the street. His mouth started to water at the thought of their famous meatloaf and mashed potatoes. He made a move to cross the street, but stopped himself. The place was packed with the lunch crowd. His brain ran wild imagining everyone turning to stare at him if he walked through the door. His truck definitely felt like the safer option. After securing the books in the cramped backseat, he climbed into the driver's side with some effort.

Main Street of King's County would never look like New York or Los Angeles, but it was more crowded than usual. He waited in line at the red light in front of the King's County Sherrif's office. It had been months since he last stepped foot inside. The first few weeks after his hospital stay the deputies would take turns visiting him. It was always an awkward affair. They didn't know what to say to him, and he didn't help things with his one word responses. The visits eventually tapered off. He really did miss their friendship and camaraderie though.

The truck inched forward when the light turned green. The right blinker ticked as he turned the steering wheel to enter the street that led to his house. At the last second he swerved to the left earning a horn honk and a string of curse words from the driver behind him. He merged onto Highway 19. The long stretch of road led to the outskirts of everything. That's where his grandfather's farm resided. A sudden need had overtaken him to plant his feet on his family's land.

He let down the window down; the breeze making his hair dance against his neck. The radio was turned up to ten. His Dad's favorite Hank Williams song came on the classic country station. Without even thinking he started singing along while tapping the fingers of his left hand on the steering wheel.

_Did you ever see a robin weep_

_When the leaves begin to die_

_Like me he's lost the will to live_

_I'm so lonesome I could cry_

He abruptly stopped singing the lyrics as the road before him started to blur. Rick swiped a hand across his face to clear the tears before hitting the off button on the radio with force. Self-pity was never a part of his make-up, but at that moment he wished he could be anyone else. Then he felt silly for letting a song get to him like that. He'd listened to that tune so many times when he was a child, but now the lyrics felt so familiar. He missed his son. He missed the people he used to love and who used to love him back. At least he thought they had. Nothing made sense to him anymore. He didn't know what to believe.

The rest of the drive was made in silence. His eyes and mind focused solely on the road. An hour later he pulled his truck to the front gate of the farm. The "For Sale" sign out front was weathered and faded. It' had been up for the past two years. Rick felt an ache in his heart knowing one day the farm wasn't going to be in the family anymore. The bank had seized it years ago. The place was deep in debt when his grandpa died. None of the family could afford the property taxes or the payments of the multiple mortgages. The bank's foreclosure came swiftly. The current real estate market made it a tough place to sell. If Rick wasn't raising a kid on a civil servant's salary then he would have tried to buy the place himself.

The gate was ten years overdue for a paint job; peeling in every direction. The rays of the sun turned the color from a vibrant white to a dingy yellow. Rick ran his hands over the top to feel the roughness, and was surprised when it gave way. He pushed it all the way open and stepped onto the property. He immediately felt at home. The yellowed grass hit his knees as he walked along the perimeter. A small pond littered with leaves and debris sat on the east end. The best place on earth was what he used to call it. His grandpa always told him it was a magical pond. If he believed it could make all his dreams come true.

_Take this nickel and_   _gon' make a wish._

_What kind of wish, Gramps?_

_'Ever you want, Ricky._

Rick had a good idea that if someone drained the water they'd find well over a thousand dollars at the bottom. Two quarters and a dime were all the change in his pocket. He tossed them into the dirty water, but didn't bother making a wish. A magnolia tree stood mighty just to the right of the pond. It had to be at least a hundred years old. Craved on the bark was a badly drawn heart with a crooked R + L on the inside.

_I don't know what to say, Rick._

_Well, Lori I was kinda hoping you'd say yes._

_Of course my answer is yes. You just made me the happiest woman in the world._

A rusted tractor sitting on four flat tires blocked the steps leading up to the front porch of the large brick house. The screen door– hung lopsided by only the top left hinge – sported a huge hole. Families of pigeons were gathered on the roof trying to suck up droplets of water from the recent rain. Behind the house was a homemade baseball diamond. The white lines could barely be seen now. His summers were spent living and breathing the game with his best friend from morning until night.

_You sure you want to get married, brother?_

_I know we're young, but Lori's a great girl. She's the one, Shane. I love her._

_That she is. I'm happy for you. Honored to be your best man._

Rick leaned against one of the trees. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples. The physical and emotional pain collided at maximum speed leaving him breathless. Thinking this wasn't such a good idea he made his way back to the truck. Lori was sitting on the passenger's seat. She smiled tentatively at him tossing her hair behind her shoulder. Her hand reached out aiming for his cheek. Rick moved away half fearing what would happen if he felt her touch. His wife wasn't deterred by the rejection. She grabbed his hand, and Rick felt a chill run through his body. She placed the hand over her heart, and mouthed the word 'please' to him. He pulled away from her, and pressed his body against the door. The heel of his hands covered his eyes. He willed her to go away.

"I don't have time for this right now," he whispered. She was gone when he opened his eyes again.

* * *

"Can you move your arm up, Rick?"

Rick lifted his right arm as high as he could; reaching only shoulder level. "That's as high as I can go, Sasha." Rick looked over his shoulder at his physical therapist.

"No, that's as high as you go before the pain becomes too much for you. But you have to fight through the pain if you want to get better. You have to go to your limit then push yourself further. Even if it's just a little."

Rick lifted his arm again just past his shoulder, before he put it down again quickly.

"That's much better. Every little bit counts." The woman rested her hand on her high bun as she often did while thinking. "I think it's time to start introducing weights to your routine. Nothing too heavy. One or two pounds. We need to get that right side stronger. How's the fingers?"

Rick stood up from the weight bench, and clasped his hands behind his back as if embarrassed by them. "About the same."

A knock came from the hallway window of the PT room. Rick turned and a smile slowly blossomed on his face. Michonne was standing behind the glass waving to him.

"What are you doing here?" He walked over to where she stood in the doorway. The eagerness is his voice apparent. He couldn't help but to admire her casual attire of black skinny jeans, grey fitted t-shirt, and black leather flats.

"Had to see a patient that's not doing too well. You looked good out there," Michonne said. She raised her hand to wave to the physical therapist. "Hey, Sash. I see you're working them as hard as ever."

"Gotta feel the pain to make the progress." Sasha started gathering all of her equipment.

"You should put that on a t-shirt." Michonne leaned against one of the weight machines.

"I'm working on the copyright." Sasha laughed then her look turned uneasy. She glanced over to Rick before stepping over to Michonne and lowering her voice. "Hey can I call you later?"

Michonne put a comforting hand on Sasha's shoulder. "Of course. What's going on?"

"Just things with Bob..." She shook her head.

"Say no more. I should be home by six. Call me then. Maybe we can go out for drinks."

Sasha blew out a sigh of relief. "Yeah. That sounds good."

Rick stood in the background trying to give the two women some privacy. He held his body a little straighter when Michonne turned back towards him. "So, how are you doing?" She asked him.

"I'm good. Better." People often asked each other how they were doing out of habit; just to make small talk. But when Michonne said it you knew she actually wanted to know. She wanted an honest answer.

"How's your diet? Surviving on Hungry-Man frozen dinners and beer?" She chuckled at Rick's guilty expression. "Come on I'll buy you lunch. You have to heal yourself from the inside out. There's a food cart outside that sells the most delectable grilled chicken sandwich." She rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

Rick gave a final wave to Sasha as the pair walked towards the exit. "I see you left the torture devices at home today," he said.

"Torture devices?" Michonne raised an eyebrow at him, but looked amused.

He pointed to her flat shoes. Her smile lit up her entire face once she comprehended. "Ah, the heels. I usually only torture myself while in the office. I'm not that much of a masochist."

The smile never left Rick's face as they stepped outside and he watched her order two sandwiches and two bottles of water from the food truck. Rick reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet, but Michonne stopped him. "Uh uh," she wagged her finger at him. "Like I said. It's on me."

Rick shook his head. "No, I can't have you pay."

Michonne slipped at ten dollar bill out of the pocket of her jeans and handed it to the man who took their orders before he had to chance to protest any further. "Too late." She tilted her head to the side, shrugged one shoulder and smirked at him.

"Guess I have to be quicker on the draw."

"Mnnhmm." She laughed in her musical way and led him to a bench at the edge of the sidewalk.

The pair sat directly below the afternoon sun. Rick looked around at all of the people milling about. All of them strangers. None of them stopped and stared at him. He smiled to himself and unwrapped his sandwich. "I like being out here in Atlanta. When they first told me I had to get my PT and counseling here I was mad about the long commute, but it's grown on me." He turned his body slightly towards Michonne. "Nobody knows me or my story. Being anonymous for a few hours each week is nice."

Michonne put her long hair up in a ponytail before she began to eat."Too many Nosey Nancy's at home?"

Rick smirked as he tilted his head to the side and back upright again. "Something like that." He paused to watch a bird fly through the air. "Sometimes I think about just up and move. A new start may help things, but I don't want to uproot Carl from his home."

Michonne balanced her sandwich on her lap so she could open her bottle of water. "An uprooting might not be so bad. A fresh start for the both of you. Atlanta is a great place to lose then find yourself again. Do you have any family that lives in your town?"

"No. Mom and Dad died a couple years ago. Six months apart. I'm an only child. My cousin calls and checks on me weekly, but he has a family so he can't come down and visit much."

"So there's nothing holding you there. Kids are amazingly adaptive. Your son will be okay if you leave. Maybe even better."

Rick nodded. "Yeah. Maybe."

Michonne brushed her fingers together to get rid of the crumbs from her sandwich. She tried to grab one of the napkins sitting on her lap, but the flimsy papers blew away from her. Rick reached over to hand her one of his unused ones. She smiled a thank you at him.

"Since you're probably not having your fellow townspeople over for coffee and conversation, what do you do with yourself all day?" She asked.

"Um...you know...stuff...things..." Rick scratched behind his ear and looked off into the distance suddenly feeling embarrassed by his boring life.

"Stuff and things, huh. Well, you're quite the renaissance man."

Rick laughed. "I guess I deserved that dig."

"See this is why I like you, Rick. All that you've been through and you can still laugh at yourself."

He looked down at the ground while kicking at a rock with the tip of his boot. "I like you too." He internally chided himself for how soft that came out. "Well I have been reading books on dreams and the occult," he said in his normal speaking tone. "Pretty interesting stuff. I feel guilty though. I spent too much time in Sunday School as a kid I guess."

"Yes, it's hard to go from thinking that stuff is the devil to fully immersing yourself in it."

"Did you go to church a lot as a child?"

"Oh, no." Michonne waved her hand in air in a dismissive manner. "My grandmother raised my mother with a healthy skepticism of the church. I was born into heathenism."

Rick couldn't count how many times he'd broken out into laughter and smiles since he'd been sitting there with her. "You're so different from Dr. Franklin."

"Not a fan of the Rorschach test?" Rick looked at her in confusion. "The ink blots," she amended

"Oh, yeah. Those things are horrible. I don't see the point."

Michonne smiled over at him. "It has some merit, but I understand why it can seem like an exercise in futility to the patients."

Rick shook his head. "It's a waste of time. But you act like a real person, and you talk to me like I'm human and not a specimen."

She nodded and tossed her food wrapper and napkin into the nearby trash receptacle. "Yes, some of my colleagues disagree with my approach, but I don't feel the need to make everything so clinical. We're asking you all to split in half in order for us to see all of the gory emotional parts you keep hidden. Sometimes even from yourselves." She placed her hands on her thighs and leaned towards him.

"One even reported me to the Medical Board once for inappropriate behavior. The offense was I bought groceries for one of my patients who was having a rough time. My colleague thought I was getting too familiar. In hindsight I probably should have gone into something like social work instead. I chose psychiatry because I wanted to help people, but medicine can be so cold."

"Hey, Dr. Lewis." Michonne turned her head towards the parking lot to see one of the hospital janitors waving at her.

"Hey, Earl! How's Clara doing?"

"She's just fine, Dr. Lewis. Just fine."

"What have I told you about that Dr. Lewis business? It's Michonne. You take care."

Rick's stare was intense as he watched the exchange; his mouth turned up at the corners. More people started to say hello to her: nurses, cafeteria workers, security guards. She greeted them all as if they were her best friends. She was anything but cold.

Michonne turned back to him and noticed how he was staring at her. She cocked her head to the side trying to decipher what he was thinking. Rick would normally look away, but he couldn't. His heart was pounding and beads of sweat started to form above his lip. Her eyes held so much power over him. Michonne finally broke contact seemingly almost flustered for a split second.

Crossing her arms and standing up she beckoned for him to join her. "You wanna walk? Let's go for a walk."

The outskirts of the hospital led to a park surrounded by a walking trail. A canopy of large trees provided shade as they kept a steady pace. They were alone until a woman with a small frame and long dark hair ran past them.

Rick watched the woman until she disappeared from his sight."Does your grandmother believe in ghosts?" He asked her.

"Of course," Michonne said. She put her hands in her pockets and slowed her pace noticing the grimace of pain that appeared on Rick's face though he tried to hide it. "The spirits talk to her, and she talks back. She says you have to be very respectful of their world. When the spirits want to speak they will appear to you. You shouldn't ever try to contact them. When I was sixteen me and my friends thought it would be cool to play with a Ouija board. I could hardly get it out of the box before she stanched it away from me and threw it in the fireplace. I thought she was going to tell me to go outside and pick a switch she was so mad." She reached out to touch the branch of one of the bushes they walked past. Her grandmother's anger was still vivid in her mind. "She told me I could have awakened something that had no place on this plane."

"What does it mean if a ghost keeps appearing to you but never really says anything?"

Michonne stopped walking and moved to stand in front of Rick. "First the dreams and now ghosts. What's haunting you Rick?"

Rick looked into her eyes, but turned away quickly looking up into the sky. He was still drawn to them, but he couldn't handle the all-knowing power they had over him right then."You read my file."

"I did, but that doesn't answer the question. You can't heal if you can't talk about it."

Rick rubbed the back of his neck and started walking again. Michonne let him get a few steps ahead of her before catching up. They moved slowly and silently for a few minutes.

"You ever do any marriage counseling?" He asked her breaking the silence.

"I have, but in an unofficial capacity. It's always interesting. Especially when both people have widely differing opinions on what caused the problems. Which they usually do. Did you and your wife go?"

"Kinda. Lori wanted to, but it was so expensive. We settled on this church couple's retreat. Neither of us got much out of it." He paused before he asked his next question knowing it was none of his business, but his curiosity needed to be quenched. "Can I ask you about your marriage?"

"You can," she said him while nodding. "I may or may not answer though."

"When did you know it was over?"

She hesitated. "Well, if I'm being honest with myself," she finally started, "then I would say it was on the first night of the honeymoon. I lied awake staring at the ceiling wondering what have I done." She glanced over at him and then focused her eyes back to the front.

"So why did you even get married? You must have seen the signs before you walked down the aisle." He thought of how sure he was before his own marriage, and wondered if it was doomed from the start; was he just blind to the truth.

"Oh, there was no aisle. Vegas. Drive-thru chapel." She shrugged at his incredulous look. "Lust can be an incredible motivator."

Rick felt a blood vessel in his neck throb. He didn't realize he was clenching his teeth until his voice came out strained. "Yeah. That's what I hear."

Michonne looked over to him. Her face furrowed in concern. "Rick, if you want to free yourself from what happened -"

"I'm over what happened," he snapped at her and then immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so harsh."

Michonne just shook her head looking as gentle as ever. She motioned to a bench that was next to them. They sat again in silence. She gave him a few moments to regroup before reaching over and tapping at the metal surrounding his finger. "You're wearing your wedding ring. Hospital workers take off all jewelry once you're admitted. Especially with injuries as severe as yours. You had to deliberately put it back on once you came home. And it's on one of your injured fingers. Those don't seem like the actions of a man who's over what happened."

"You're psychoanalyzing me today? Our next session isn't for a couple of days." He tried to laugh off what she was saying, but it came out as a strangled sound.

"Call it a freebie." She wasn't deterred by his attempted humor.

Rick felt tears start to build up in his eyes. He didn't want to cry now. Not here. Not in front of her. "It's just really hard." He finally said.

"You loved your wife. You shared many years with her. You raised a child together. Hurt and anger is in the equation now, but you can't expect the feelings of love you built up for years to suddenly go away."

"It'll be a lot easier if they did."

"Everything would be a lot easier if feelings weren't involved, but that's not the way we were programmed." She turned over his right hand with the palm facing up. "Some say you can predict the future by reading palms." She pointed the scar sitting across his. "You can look at this scar as giving you a new start when you're ready. It eliminated what was to come. The future is up to you, but heavy emphasis on when you're ready. You have to take care of the old before you can make room for the new."

Rick looked down at his palm; focused on the scar. As much as he wanted to look forward to a brighter future, he was still shackled to his past and didn't know if he'd ever be able to break free.


	4. Chapter 4

**9 Months Ago**

Rick felt strange surrounded by the traditionally feminine decor in the downstairs bathroom. The small room was usually off limits to him. Lori kept the space in pristine condition in case an unexpected guest dropped by, and according to her he couldn't use a room without leaving a mess behind. Testing his luck, he took his chances that morning. The last bite of oatmeal had spilled onto his freshly dry-cleaned uniform. With Shane due any minute to pick him work for their shift he didn't have time to waste. Using one of the fancy, pink washcloths, he dabbed at his shirt causing a big wet circle just below his heart. After salvaging the garment as best he could he looked for a place to stash the towel. His eyes wandered down until an odd cylinder sticking out of the wastebasket caught his attention. Crouching down, he pulled the object out of the container; spilling tissues all over the floor in the process.

His mouth went dry as he twisted it in his hand. Standing again, he could see his reflection in the mirror. The shock he was feeling looked to be displayed two-fold on his face. Pregnancy tests had gotten a lot easier to read in the last fifteen years. He still remembered debating with Lori whether there were one or two lines on the test that foretold the birth of Carl. Room for error was no longer allowed. The small screen displaying the word "pregnant" couldn't be denied.

Rick watched as his reflection broke out into a wide smile. Not caring he had indeed left the bathroom a mess, he rushed out frantically calling Lori's name.

She rushed down from upstairs; stopping on the landing. "Rick, what are you shouting about? You nearly scared me half to death."

Rick lifted up the pregnancy test in his hand. "Do want to tell me something?" He watched as the expression on her face turned from confused, to shocked, to fear, and finally resignation.

"Oh," she finally said. Her arms were crossed just below her breasts as she slowly took a seat on the stairs. "I was going to tell you...this evening." She sat there twisting her hands.

Rick frowned. "You're happy about this, right?"

"Of course I'm happy, Rick. It's just a surprise since we weren't trying to have another baby. I'm still getting used to the idea."

Rick's face relaxed as he sat next to Lori, and grabbed her hand. "I can understand that, but this is good. Real good."

She clutched his hand back, but still looked strained. "It is."

Before they could say more the back door opened and slammed closed with force. "Rick, where the hell you at, man? I tell you what, if we're late one more time Ned's going to have our asses. We gotta go." Shane walked in from the kitchen, but paused when he saw Lori and Rick sitting on the stairs holding hands. He took a step back and scratched the side of his face. "What's...what's going on here?"

Rick smiled over at his friend. "Lori's pregnant."

"Rick," Lori looked apprehensive, "we shouldn't tell people this early."

"Shane's not people. He's family."

"Wow, man...um that's great...yeah great. I'm happy for y'all." Shane locked eyes with Lori for a split second before turning his attention back to Rick. "Good news or not we gotta jet, man."

Lori gave Rick's hand a final squeeze before heading down the stairs to the bathroom with her head down; avoiding looking at both her husband and Shane.

Rick stood up and clapped Shane on the back. "I'll be right out. Just let me check on Lori."

Shane just stood there scratching his face again and looking at the ground. "What? Yeah, okay. I'll be in the car." He seemed to be in a daze as he exited through the backdoor.

Rick stared perplexed at his friend's retreating back before going after his wife.

"You okay, Lori?" The woman was on her knees picking up after the mess Rick made.

"Mmm? Yeah, I'm fine. Like I said I'm still trying to get used to the idea of being pregnant again. I wanted to process it more before I told you. It's going to be a big change..." She trailed off and stood in front of the mirror; her eyes not focused on anything at all.

Rick moved behind her; his arms enclosing them in an embrace. "I'm sorry. I just got so excited when I saw the test. I know we weren't planning on having another kid, but we're going to make it work."

She turned in his arms and gently caressed his cheek. "Yeah, we will. Everything is good."

Rick kissed her gently on the lips and pulled her close to him. Lori hugged him back with eyes closed tight as she worked hard to prevent tears from falling. After a short while she gently pushed him away. "Okay, you need to skedaddle. You heard Shane. You two can't afford to be late. You can't afford to get in trouble at work anymore. We're going to have another mouth to feed soon." She smiled tightly; the gesture failing to met her eyes.

Rick gave her one more kiss on the forehead. "We'll celebrate when I get home tonight."

He left her standing in the bathroom as he rushed outside to where Shane was sitting in the driver's seat of the squad car. He dropped into the passenger's seat, and put his Sherriff's hat on his head. "Sorry it took so long. I needed to make sure Lori was okay before I left."

Shane seemingly didn't hear what he said as the man as he sat there rubbing his head and biting his lip.

"Why are you acting so strange?" Rick asked.

Shane looked at his partner and shook his head. "Who's acting strange, man? Just shocked. I thought you and Lori were still having problems. Wasn't expecting y'all to be having another kid."

"Me either, but maybe this is what we need to jump start our marriage. We were at our happiest right after Carl was born. We could have that again. I always wanted a little girl. This could be our new beginning."

"If you say so, man." Shane looked at Rick for a few beats longer and started the car.

* * *

**Present Day**

The humidity was so thick that morning Rick felt as he could drink the air. The back porch offered scant shade from the discount awning attached to the house. He had been sitting on the cheap wicker patio furniture for the past couple of hours. He'd watched the sun rise; trying to enjoy the small things in life. The dark roast of the coffee filled his nostrils as he raised the cup. The few drops of whiskey he'd poured into the cup fought to become the dominant aroma. The small things were more enjoyable with a punch to the senses.

His black t-shirt and jeans already felt hot on his body. The curls on his head were still wet from the shower; bare feet warm from the heat emitting from the wood of the porch. He felt like he should go back upstairs for a second round of sleep, but he knew the dreams wouldn't let him have any peace. Every night when he closed his eyes the images played in his head. He didn't understand all the weirdness of it all. So many things made no sense, but Michonne was always the one constant. Each time he'd laid awake after another vivid experience he could physically feel her presence as if she was in the room with him. He'd always turned and ran his hand over the opposite side of the bed almost thinking it would be warm from her body.

He flipped open his phone and scrolled down the tiny screen. He abruptly closed it then stared at the phone and flipped it open again. His thumb hovered over the facebook icon before pressing down. While holding the phone close to his face he typed the name Michonne Lewis into the search engine. A private page came up, but he was able to see her profile picture. His breath caught as he stared at the tiny image of her wearing a white, form fitting evening gown. Her hair was pulled back into a simple bun. Her smile was as warm as ever. It made the corners of his mouth upturn just seeing it.

Rick was so focused on Michonne it took him awhile to realize there was a male companion in the picture wearing a tux and looking longingly at her. He shut the phone again, and slipped it into his pocket. Stalking Michonne wasn't on his agenda, and he wanted to kill the urge before turning into one of those creepy guys he had to arrest multiple times. He couldn't deny his heart hurt a little at the thought of her with another man, but he knew he shouldn't expect a woman like her to be sitting home lonely every night.

A light flicking on in his next door neighbor's kitchen drew his attention. The husband and wife were laughing at something as the kids ran around playing tag with each other and generally goofing off. It looked like the typical morning of a family.

The wife's gaze found him and she raised her hand in a wave. He waved back feeling guilty for being caught eavesdropping. Feeling the creep vibe set in again, he stood quickly; walking back into the house.

The living room was littered with old clothes, books, and scraps of notebook paper. Sitting in the mess was a small teddy bear wearing a pink dress holding a balloon with the words "It's A Girl" written in white letters. He found it when he was looking through the backyard storage unit for some of his tools. He'd bought it the day he'd found out Lori was pregnant. When his future looked like it was going to be so different than the purgatory he currently found himself in.

He picked up the stuffed animal feeling it brush against the scar across his palm. Michonne's words about his future echoed in his head. It was up in the air, and he didn't know what to do about it.

His next session with her was in a few hours. Though he was looking forward to seeing her - he always wanted to see her - he was also apprehensive. She had a way of looking right through him into his soul, and pulling out what was inside. Facing that was always frightful.

He poured himself another cup of coffee, and added a few more drops of alcohol. The warm liquid washed down his morning pill. The sound of a car pulling up outside drew him to the living room window. He was shocked to see Carl get out an ancient looking car driven by another teenager.

Rick opened the front door and stood of the porch in the typical disapproving parent pose - hand on hips and an eyebrow raised waiting for an explanation. "Carl, what are you doing here?"

"I live here." The boy smirked at his father as he shouldered his backpack and stood on the bottom porch step.

"Don't be smart. Where's Ray and Mildred?"

"Grandpa and Grandma are at their house. I called Jake to give me a ride back here."

Rick stared at his son in disbelief. "Do they know you're gone?"

"I left them a note."

"Carl..."

He threw his hands up. "I couldn't take it there anymore. All Grandma does is cry and say I look so much like Mom. Grandpa is like a stature. He just sits on the porch in his rocking chair all day. I didn't want to be there anymore. There're no other kids my age around. It was lonely. I know if I was lonely than you were too, and I missed you."

Rick wanted to be angry with Carl for disobeying him and leaving his grandparents' house so recklessly, but he just was happy to see the boy he couldn't be. Carl jogged the rest of the way up the porch steps and wrapped his arms around his father in a tight hug. Rick's body hurt from the force of the skinny arms holding him tight, but he didn't care. He let his son hug him as long as he wanted.

"We need to at least call your grandparents so they won't panic," he said as they pulled out of their embrace.

"Okay, but I'm sure they haven't even noticed I left yet. I couldn't take being around Aunt Janice either."

Rick thought about the sister-in-law he'd never gotten along with. "What did she do?"

"She kept saying bad things about you to Grandma when they thought I was out of earshot."

Rick wasn't surprised. "Still you need to call them. They love you. You don't want to worry them."

"All right. Fine," he conceded. He finally noticed his father was dressed in clothes other than pajamas or sweats; a rare sight in the past few months. "You going somewhere?"

Rick grasped the boy's shoulders and led him to the house. "Yeah, I have a doctor's appointment."

"Can I come?"

Rick opened the front door and motioned for Carl to go in before him. "It's not a regular doctor's appointment. It's with a psychiatrist."

Carl at his father with a worried expression on his face. "Are you okay, Dad?"

"Nothing's wrong with my head. It's just protocol if I want to reinstated back to the Sherriff's office." He gave the boy a reassuring pat on the back.

Carl bit his bottom lip and threw his backpack on the couch. He turned and faced his father. "I want to come."

Rick sighed. "It'll be boring."

"What if something happens and you need me. We studied psychology last year in school. Can't talking to one of those doctors bring up painful memories? And with everything that's happened...I don't want you to be alone."

Rick blew out a breath and nodded. Sadness and regret overtook him at Carl feeling like he had to take care of him. "Okay, son. You can come, but we need to get a move on soon. It's a long drive to Atlanta."

Carl moved to pick up his backpack and caught sight of the stuffed bear sitting on the coffee table. He picked it up and looked at his Dad, but didn't say anything. Eyeing the disarray of the house, he gently put the animal back down on the table.

"Maybe we should get a maid," he said as he went up the stairs.

Rick wiped a hand across his face and surveyed how he'd been living. He had to get his life together.

* * *

The two Grimes' sat in the waiting area of the medical office. Carl flipped through one of his comic books while Rick kept looking at his watch. His appointment was supposed to start five minutes ago.

"You okay staying here by yourself while I'm in my session." Rick leaned over to quietly ask Carl.

"Dad, I'm fifteen not two. I'll be all right." Carl shook his head in the exasperated way only a teenager could conjure up.

Rick nodded and patted his son on the knee. His own leg bounced up and down. He checked his watch again: seven minutes passed his appointment time.

The waiting room door sounded as if it was in desperate need of some WD40 as it creaked open. Rick was expecting to see Michonne's blonde assistant but the woman herself walked through the door instead.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. My assistant isn't here today, and I'm obviously no good at taking care of myself." She sounded breathless as if she'd been rushing around all day. She was wearing glasses and dressed casually in jeans again. A smile overtook her as she saw Carl stand when his father did. "And who do we have here?"

Rick gestured between the two of them. "This is my son, Carl. Carl this is Dr. Lewis."

Carl stuck out his hand and shook hers. "Very nice to meet you ma'am."

"Oh, my. Aren't you the gentleman. It's very nice to meet you too, Carl." She smiled over Carl's shoulder at Rick. "You have a very polite son."

Rick smiled back at her. "Guess I did one thing right."

"Guys you're talking to me like I'm not here. It's gross."

Rick ruffled Carl's hair. "And the teenager comes out."

"Daaad," he whined.

Rick smiled again looking from Michonne to Carl. He pulled the boy close to him with one arm and placed a kiss on his unruly hair. Carl squirmed, but he wore a smile similar to his father's.

Michonne cocked her head to the side and folded her arms across her chest. "I like seeing you in Dad mode. It's cute."

"No, it's not." Carl tried to grumble, but facade was broken as he was still smiling

Michonne slipped her glasses off her face and gave Carl a sympathetic look. "Don't be too hard on your Dad. Mine used to embarrass me too. I think it's the rite of passage in having a child." She pointed to the comic in his hand. "What do you have there?"

Carl turned the book over so she could see the cover. "It's the Joker origin comic.  _The Man Who Laughs._ "

Michonne took it from his hands. "Oh, this is a good one. It's a bit of a sequel to  _Batman: Year One_  isn't it?"

"Wait, you read comic books?" Carl's voice was filled with shock and awe.

"I know I'm old, but I'm not that old." Michonne laughed.

"Dad thinks they're a waste of time."

"I don't think they're a waste. I just want you to read other things too." Rick defended himself.

Michonne put one hand up to the side of her mouth and faux whispered. "He's just not cool enough for this comic life."

Carl whispered back. "Tell me about it." Both broke out into laughs.

"It's pick on Rick day, I see." Rick complained, but he was smiling and laughing right with them. "I actually checked out a couple of comic history books from the library. Those two you've been reading. So who's the stick in the mood now?"

"Still you, Dad." Carl laughed.

"Well, I'm for one impressed. Good job, Rick. Comics have a rich history."

"Mom didn't like me reading comic books either," Carl said then paused. The good nature vibe was suctioned out of the room and replaced by a black cloud.

"I guess I should let you guys get to your session." Carl sat back down in his chair and opened his comic book again. He stared at the page, but his eyes weren't focused on the words.

Michonne felt a deep empathy inside as she watched the boy suddenly look so sad and alone. She looked at Rick who was also watching his son closely. "Carl, why don't I and you talk for a bit before we start our session? If it's okay with your Dad of course."

Rick pulled his eyes away from his son as he looked to Michonne. They stared at each other having a silent conversation before he nodded. "That's fine."

"You want to have a little chit chat, Carl?" When he nodded and stood she led him to her office. She looked over her shoulder to Rick before closing the waiting room door. "We won't be long."

Michonne's office was full of boxes and bubble wrap. There was hardly any free space. Only her desk chair and one visitor's chairs were unoccupied.

"You're moving offices?" Carl asked her.

"Something like that. You want to sit in one of the chairs?"

He pointed to an empty corner of the floor near the window. "Can we sit there instead? I have a thing with sitting of the floor. It makes me feel safer." He looked down feeling embarrassed. "I know it's stupid."

Michonne shook her head. "It's not stupid at all, Carl. Let's sit there." Michonne went to her desk to grab something out of the top drawer before settling down with the teen on the floor. She had a Milky War chocolate bar in her hand. "Your thing is sitting on the floor, and mine is a deep obsession with chocolate. Want to split this with me?"

He nodded eagerly as Michonne handed him half of the bar. "Why did you want to talk to me Dr. Lewis?"

"You can call me Michonne, sweetie. It's helpful sometimes to talk to the family members of my patients. Also, you were right there when all of this tragedy hit your family. I thought maybe you needed to talk too. Vent your frustrations."

Carl quietly ate his candy and focused on the threading on the carpeted floor. "Since you read comic books, do you remember when Bane broke Batman's back?"

"Yeah, it was shocking."

"Even though Batman was human I always thought he was invincible. He wouldn't let anything get in his way of keeping Gotham safe. Then Bane came to town and everything went to shit." His eyes shot up at Michonne. "I'm sorry."

Michonne smiled. "It's okay. Go on."

"With my mom gone and Dad almost dying I feel like I was losing a hero again. Batman losses again."

"Batman recovered though. He went on to defeat Bane."

"Yeah, I know, but things won't ever be the same. I can't look at anything with kids' eyes again." He paused. "I miss my mom. I also kinda hate her."

Michonne turned so she was facing Carl. "Hate is a strong emotion, but it's a valid one. It's also understandable."

"It makes me feel guilty. My mom wasn't a bad person, but my Dad wouldn't be so hurt if it wasn't for her and Shane. I don't know how to forgive her."

"Forgiveness can be overrated. It takes time. People don't always deserve your forgiveness. It's okay if you're still angry at your mother. Maybe you'll be able to forgive her soon. Maybe you won't. Neither choice is wrong. They key is not letting that anger hinder you from going on with your life. I didn't know your mother, but I feel confident in saying she wouldn't want that for you either. Like you said she wasn't a bad person. Just flawed as we all are to some degree."

"Did you know Mom was pregnant?" Carl asked.

"I did."

"Dad thought she'd have a girl this time. He said I could help name her." He picked at a hang nail on his thumb.

Michonne took a bite of her half of the candy bar while still watching Carl. "I like that. I bet it made you feel a part of everything."

"Yeah it did. I was excited about being a big brother. My second grade teacher's first name was Judith. I always thought it sounded nice. I never got to tell Mom and Dad that was my choice. You think that would have been good for a little girl?"

Michonne reached out and patted his hand. "I think it would have been perfect."

"I think Dad hates Mom now too."

"Why do you say that?"

Carl shrugged. "I dunno. Just stuff I've seen him do and say."

"You worry about him. I can tell." She stretched her legs out; her feet almost grazing the desk and crossed her ankles.

"It was scary when he first came home from the hospital. He was like a different person. Then he sent me to my grandparents. I didn't know what he'd do to himself while in that house alone. I told him I came home because I didn't like it at my grandparents. That's true, but more than anything I was scared that he'd give up on living one day." Tears glistened in the boy's eyes. He hung his head trying to hide them from Michonne, but she lifted his chain with two fingers.

"Don't be embarrassed by your tears. Remember all of your emotions are understandable and valid."

Carl wiped at the wetness on his face. "I don't want to act like a big baby. I need to be a man. I need to be there for Dad."

"I don't think your father expects you to be a man right now. I can see how much he loves you. He wouldn't want you to carry that responsibility on your shoulders."

"I can handle it if I need to."

Michonne nodded. "Okay. Do you want to tell your father any of this?"

He shook his head. "Not right now."

She nodded again "Okay. You don't have to. If you ever need to talk, vent, scream, or whatever you can always come to me." She hands him her card. "My cell number is on the bottom. Call me anytime."

* * *

Michonne and Carl walked back into the waiting room. Rick had a magazine in his hands, but had been staring more at the door than reading about celebrity weddings.

Michonne reached into her pocket and gave Carl a couple of dollars. "There's a vending machine right down that hall," she pointed to her right, "Why don't you get us a couple of sodas to wash down that candy bar."

"Okay," he said.

Once he left Michonne took a seat next to Rick. He put down the magazine and prepared himself for hearing something he didn't want to. Her face was etched with worry.

"He's hurting a lot, Rick," she finally said.

"I know." He leaned back in his chair and let his head rest of the wall.

"He needs you."

"I know." Rick looked at the ceiling feeling anger at himself. "I know I need to get my shit together."

Michonne watched Rick hating to see him mentally beat himself up. "To be fair you've had to wade through a lot of shit these last few months."

Rick cut his eyes over to her. "I'm still a father. I need to put my son first."

Michonne leaned back in her chair too; putting her head on the wall right next to Rick's. "Both you and Carl can get through this. I know it feels insurmountable, but it's not." She nudged him with her shoulder. "I believe in Rick Grimes."

His hand reached out to lightly brush her shoulder before pulling it away quickly. He didn't want to cross any boundaries. "I never went to the funeral."

"Come again?" Michonne asked confused by his non-sequitur.

"I never went to Lori's funeral. I was still in the hospital when it took place. Her parents didn't want to wait. I've never even seen her grave. Could never get myself to go. Last time we talked you said I have to take care of the past before I can move on. I think I'm ready now. I can't let Carl suffer through this anymore."

"I'm always here if you need me, but," Michonne's eyes glazed over in sadness, "I won't be doing it as your doctor anymore. Dr. Franklin returns next week. You're officially his patient. You'll need to start back your sessions with him."

"Wait. What? No." Rick started to panic. He didn't know what he would do if he couldn't see her anymore. "There must be something you can do to get me transferred to you permanently. I need you not him." His voice started to rise.

Michonne slid to the edge of her chair and sat up straighter; her back rigid. "That's the other thing. I'm leaving the practice to go out on my own. I won't be around here anymore. I would take you on as a client, but the Sherriff's office only has a contract with the doctors here." Her voice came out quietly filled with regret. This was harder than she thought it would be.

Rick stood and ran his left hand through his hair. "So this is it? I can never see you again?"

Michonne stood too. "You have my card, Rick. I gave Carl one too. Both of you can call me if you need anything."

He took a step closer to her. "What if I just need a friend?"

Michonne reached out her hand to lightly clutch his forearm. "Then I can be that for you too."

* * *

It was evening when Rick and Carl made it back to King's County. The sky was pink and purple in one of those picture perfect sunsets, but neither one paid much attention. Rick drove past Main Street. He stopped the truck at the local church. Across the street was the town's cemetery.

He climbed out of the driver's seat and met Carl at the front of the truck. He grabbed his son's hand. The boy looked up at him. "Are you ready to do this?" Rick asked.

"Are you?" Carl asked.

"No," Rick answered honestly, "but I have to."

Carl nodded. They crossed the street and walked down the stone path. Graves lined both sides of the walkway. They stopped at the end of the path. Carl hung back as he watched his father walk over to a simple gravestone that looked identical to so many others. It was surrounded by flowers. Some looked fresh. Others were on their way to death.

Lori Grimes  
Loving wife, mother, and daughter  
1975 - 2015

He gently stroked his wedding ring and closed his eyes. When he opened them Lori was floating just behind her headstone. She had tears in her eyes, but the ghostly apparition had a small smile her lips.

Rick looked down, shook his head, and then stared into her eyes. "I'm sorry for not always being the best husband. I'm sorry for not always being who you needed me to be. I'm sorry this wasn't forever."

The ghostly image slowly faded away as he knelled down to dust the dirt off the stone. He hung his head and said a silent prayer hoping she was somewhere safe in the afterlife.

Carl joined him. He hugged his son then gave him some privacy.

The sun had fully set as he meandered down the path again until he found the other headstone he needed to see.

Shane Walsh  
Partner, friend, and son  
1973 – 2015

* * *

**A/N:**  In the next chapter we'll learn more about Dr. Michonne Lewis!


	5. Chapter 5

Michonne took in the view from the balcony on the 16th floor of her apartment building. The distant sounds of traffic could be heard on the street below. She leaned one hip against the banister and sipped Perrier water from a crystal wine glass. Her eyes were focused on the haziness of the horizon as the wind made her red and white sun dress cling to her body.

A tray of fruit and imported cheese was waiting for her on the tiny patio table. She sat down in one of the lounge chairs and started nibbling at the food; her appetite not really there. The to-do list she had written out the night before had well over fifty items listed - starting a practice was no easy feat - but it felt safer on the balcony than what waited for her inside.

The sliding glass door that separated the balcony from the apartment opened slowly. The man that stepped out held himself rigid with an air of sadness around him.

"I've been looking for you," he said quietly. "I thought you left."

"Just needed to catch my breath," she said matching his tone of voice.

He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I'm all set."

Michonne nodded. "Okay." She placed her glass next to the tray, and stood to follow him back inside the apartment. The place looked strange with all his things gone. A single suitcase was near the front door.

"Terry just took the last box down to the truck. We'll drop them off at the storage unit before heading to the airport." He struggled to remove a silver key from his Emory University key chain. Finally freeing it; he placed the key in the palm of her hand. She closed her fingers tightly around it before placing it in her dress pocket.

"I guess this is it then," she said.

He picked up his suitcase and leaned back against the front door. "There's still time to change your mind."

"Mike..."

"Okay, I get it, but all I'm saying is South Africa isn't that far away. We could still make this work."

She cocked her head and smirked. "Only thousands of miles."

"If you really want something distance shouldn't matter." His tone was pleading. "I really wish you were coming with me."

She nodded; avoiding his steadfast gaze. "It wouldn't be a good idea right now."

"Right." He sighed and place his suitcase back down on the floor. "This isn't the ending I imagined us having."

Michonne reached out to caress his cheek. "No one ever pictures a relationship ending like this."

Mike placed his hand over hers. "Who knows what they future may hold. We could be together again someday."

"Perhaps," she said but her heart wasn't in it.

He pulled her into a hug before grabbing his suitcase again and walking out of the door. She watched him until he entered the elevator. He never looked back at her. She sighed. Goodbyes were awful, but she felt a sense of relief in that moment. Mike wasn't her meant to be. It was best they ended things then.

Michonne walked back out to her balcony and fell into the lounge chair. The beauty of the view made her drift into a state of calmness until the buzzing of her phone broke the sereneness. It was a number she didn't recognize, but answered anyway.

"Hello?"

"Hey Dr. Lew...um Michonne...this is Rick...Rick Grimes...I'm sorry if I'm bothering you -"

Michonne cut him off. "You're not bothering me. I told you to call me any time. I meant it."

She could hear him exhale. "Okay. Good. It's been a couple of week since we talked. I wanted to check in, I guess."

Michonne made herself more comfortable in the chair. "I'm glad you did. You doing okay, Rick?"

"I'm getting there."

"And Carl?"

"Him too. He's off with friends today actually getting to be a teenager instead of worrin' bout ol' Dad."

Michonne smiled at that. "Good. You really have a great kid there. I've been thinking about the both of you."

"Me...me too. I mean I've been thinking about you a lot too."

Silence took over both ends of the conversation. Michonne played with the helm of her dress. "How are things with Dr. Franklin?" she finally asked.

Rick scoffed. "The usual ink blots and psycho babble."

Michonne laughed; twirling one of her dreads around her finger. "Give him a chance. He really is a fine doctor. Taught me a lot in the years we worked together."

"I would still rather have you as my doctor. You get me in ways I don't even get myself."

"We're friends now. That has added benefits than just doctor and patient."

She heard him breathe in deep again. "Yeah, friends. I kinda lack those right now. It's nice to have a new one."

The two paused again. "Did you call me for any other reason besides checking in?" She asked.

"I guess I just wanted to talk to my friend."

Michonne smiled to herself. She stood and entered her apartment again. She could see her to-do list waiting for her on the coffee table. "Are you busy today?"

"I was going to drop some clothes off at the dry cleaners, but that was the end of my fun for the day."

"You want to go on a road trip?" She walked into the bedroom and took a pair of jeans and a tank top out of her closet.

"Road trip?"

"Yes, a road trip. Those are the types of things friends do. Are you game?"

"Sure." She could hear the smile in his voice. "To where?"

"I'll tell you when I pick you up. Can you be ready in an hour?"

"With bells on."

"Okay, see you then."

An hour and a half later Michonne pulled her white Range Rover outside of Rick's house. He came outside once he heard the car. She watched through her sunglasses as his gait appeared to be easier than it had in past weeks.

He hopped into the passenger's seat. She pulled the shades to the top of head. She never noticed before how blue his eyes were or how they twinkled when he smiled like he was doing at her right then.

"Hey," she said while smiling back at him.

"Hey," he said. "It's good to see you."

"You too. I'm sorry I'm late. There was a lot of traffic coming out of Atlanta." She put the car back in drive and headed towards the freeway. "This is a charming little town you have here."

"Its charms have been lost of me the last few months," Rick said as he watched all the familiar sights pass by. Not sure what to do with himself, he kept his hands on his lap and his back straight. The seat belt felt tight around his abdomen. He tried to discreetly adjust it; not wanting to do any damage to her expensive car.

Michonne could see him fidgeting out of the corner of her eye. "You can relax," she said.

Rick gave her a sheepish look. "This is a lot more fancy than my seven year old truck. I don't want to touch anything I'm not supposed to."

"It's a sturdy piece of metal. I think it'll survive Rick Grimes," she teased him.

He physically relaxed; scratching the back of his neck as he laughed at how silly he was being. "So where are we headed?"

"To Athens," Michonne said as she took a left on Main Street to enter the highway.

Rick gave her a moment to elaborate, but she remained silent; focused on the road with a slight smirk on her face. "So what's in Athens?" He probed further.

"My grandmother."

Rick's eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, really. With your recent foray into the supernatural, I thought a little brujeria would do you good." She glanced over and saw his faced etched in confusion. "Witchcraft," she explained.

"Oh… If my Gramps could see me now." He shook his head.

"If you don't want to go I can turn around, but all your questions about dreams and ghosts...I thought it would be best to have you talk to the expert directly."

"No, I want to meet your grandmother. I've been curious since you since you first mentioned her." Rick felt both excited and nervous about meeting with what he expected to be an imposing figure.

"She's pretty amazing." She merged onto the left lane and sped up. "I think talking to you about dreams has influenced me. I had a weird one last night. I was standing at the edge of a bridge scared to cross it. There was a strong current of water underneath. On the opposite side of the bridge was a dark figure beckoning me. I couldn't tell who it was. They were just a shadow."

"So what does that mean?" Rick tried to remember if he read anything about bridges in his research.

"I don't know. It could be lots of things."

"You were able to help me with my dreams. Can't you interpret yours?"

Michonne shook her head. "Like I said my grandmother is the expert." She became quiet and a slight tension hung in the air. Finally, she smiled again looking like her old self. "Besides today's about you not me."

"Are you from Athens?" He asked.

"Didn't I say today was about you not me," she said with a good-natured reproach.

"Humor me." He said repeating her words from their first session.

"Yep. Born and raised."

"Do your parents live there too?"

"No. My Dad died last year after a battle with cancer. I still miss him every day. And my mom...well, she died awhile ago. When I was in college."

"Can I ask how?"

"She was sick for a long time too." She glanced over at Rick before looking at the road again. "She was schizophrenic. I went into psychiatry because of her. I told you I wanted to help people. I could never help her so..." she shrugged, "I believed helping others could be my penance."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Few of us are immune to tragedy."

"Do you have in family around you in Atlanta?"

"No. Both of my brothers live in other states. New York and Washington. I have good friends in Atlanta, but I do miss home a lot."

Rick could tell how much she missed the place where she grew up by the joy that radiated from her when they parked in front of a modest yellow house with a perfectly manicured yard, and a white picket fence. A matching white swing hung on the porch.

Michonne unbuckled her seat belt and took off her shades. "You ready?"

He nodded as both exited the car. Rick held on to the banister as they walked up the porch steps. Michonne pulled out a key and opened the door leading Rick inside.

"Gran, we're here," she shouted.

Her grandmother came out from the backyard wearing a pair of overalls, a white t-shirt with a blue and red plaid shirt on top. Her skin was the same smooth, dark tone as her granddaughter's; not a wrinkle in sight. She wore her salt and pepper hair in two long braids. Her feet were covered in a pair of combat boots. A wicker basket in her hand was filled with cucumbers, tomatoes, and leafy greens. She smiled and nodded at Rick before turning her attention to her granddaughter.

Michonne rushed over and the two women embraced. "Hello, my sweet girl." Her voice came out in a deep alto. They pulled away as the older woman looked her granddaughter up and down. "Looking sharp as usual."

Michonne looked down bashfully. "Thanks, Gran."

"Is this the young man?" She asked looking at Rick.

"Yes, Gran. This is Rick Grimes. Rick this is my grandmother Aldina Haywood."

Aldina gave Rick the same up and down look. "Did you mama name you Richard?"

"Yes, ma'am." Rick stood in an awkward pose suddenly feeling unsure of himself.

"I like that name better. I'll be calling you Richard."

She walked into the kitchen - putting the basket on the table - and turned on the faucet. "I don't mean to be rude by not shaking your hand," she started above the sound of running water, "but I have been deep in dirt all morning."

"No need to apologize, ma'am. I'm grateful that you've allowed me in your home."

Aldina dried her hands on a kitchen towel. She went to the table to take the leafy greens out of the basket. "I didn't have time to make groceries this week. But I got some fresh collards right here, a pot of sweet potatoes cooking on the stove, and leftover smothered chicken, peach pie, and sweet tea in the ice box. So we'll cook, break bread, then chat for a spell. What do you think about that, Richard?"

"That sounds just fine. Great actually. Thank you for your hospitality."

She looked over at Michonne again and then back to Rick. "You're a polite young man. I like that."

"I haven't been young in a long time, Mrs. Haywood."

"I'm eighty-three years old, everyone is young to me. You. Sit." She pointed from Rick to a chair at the kitchen table. "Baby girl you get over there and start washing and cutting up them greens."

"Yes, ma'am." Michonne dropped her purse on the table and got to work.

Aldina sat in the chair across from Rick's. He studied her for a moment before speaking. "You're different than what I was expecting," he said.

"Did you think I'd be wearing long silk robes, a turbin, and talk in spiritual lingo? Or with a Jamaican accent?" She laughed heartily at the look on Rick's face confirming all that she said. "Oh, Richard."

Michonne snickered from her spot at the sink cutting and washing. Rick turned red from embarrassment feeling the impact of teasing from both women. "Well in my defense I didn't think you'd have a Jamaican accent ma'am. I knew you were Southern," he said.

"Ha!" She clapped her hands together then pointed at Rick. "I like this one. He fits to a T with what I was telling you the other day, Michonne."

"Gran, please." She threw her grandmother an exasperated look over her shoulder.

Aldina put her hands up in the air. "I'm just sayin'. As the kids say." She turned her attention back to Rick. "What's your story?"

"My story?"

"We all have a story."

He looked over to his friend with her back still turned at the kitchen sick. "Michonne hasn't told you anything?"

"My granddaughter takes her job very seriously. She's not going to tell me any details about you. All I know is you're a former patient and now friend."

Rick nodded. "Well, I guess she brought me here because I've been having experiences with the...umm...supernatural. Dreams and stuff. She told me you're an expert on these things."

"I don't know about expert, but the knowledge the ancestors have passed down through the generations, and my own life experiences have made me see things in ways most people don't. But we'll talk more about that later. What do you want out of life, Richard?"

Rick had both hands on the table. He felt the scar across his palm start to twitch. "Just a good life for me and my son."

Aldina sat back and crossed her arms. "That's noble. Now like I said cooking is first. You're a guest, but I'ma put you to work, Richard. Reach up there in my top cabinet and bring me that big silver pot for my greens."

The three of them went to work preparing the meal. Aldina shared stories about Michonne's childhood often causing the woman to hide her face behind her hands embarrassed by all of her childhood antics. The atmosphere made Rick feel better than he had in awhile. The smell of good southern cooking and being around family who cherished each other brought back his own memories. He only wished Carl was there too.

They made quick work of preparing the lunch. Two hours after Michonne and Rick arrived, their bellies were full and their souls were content. Aldina went over to her bookshelf and brought back an elaborate, small chest decorated with maroon fabric and rhinestones.

"Have you ever had your tarot read, Richard?" She asked

"No ma'am. Can't say that I have." Rick wearily eyed the box. "If I may ask, how can shuffling around some cards predict somethin'?"

"Do you believe in an all knowing power, Richard?"

"Are you asking if I believe in God?"

"You can call him or her whatever you want. What I'm asking if you believe there's something far greater than just us folks down here?"

"I did...I guess I do...I was raised in a Christian household, but I'm now questioning everythin' I used to know."

"I never did have much use for The Good Book myself. Even when I was still back at my Daddy's house I didn't feel right reading those scriptures every mornin' and evenin'. There's no doubt in my mind there's somethin' out there to help guide us and these cards when used right are divinely blessed to do just that."

Michonne started clearing their plates from the table. "There's a scientific explanation for this also," she said. "Carl Jung called it Synchronicity. It's a guiding force in the universe. Things we see as a coincidence could be signs that can help us make decisions and guide our lives if we learn to recognize them."

"So there you go. Science married to the supernatural," Aldina said. She spread the cards in front of her. "There's many ways a tarot can be read. We're going to do a five card spread. I'm gonna need you to close your eyes and concentrate on what you want the cards to tell you."

"I have some phone calls I have to make. I'll give you two some privacy." Michonne started to leave, but Rick stopped her by grabbing her hand. "You don't have to go."

She patted his hand. "These things are like our psych sessions. They're best done without any spectators." She gave him a reassuring look before disappearing to the front porch.

Rick watched her go, sighed and closed his eyes.

"The cards have the Major Arcana and the Minor Acrana," Aldina explained. "The minor deals with day to day livin'. The major deals with your life as a whole. We're gonna just focus on the Major today." Aldina shuffled the cards between her hands ten times. Her eyes were closed and she hummed a melodic tune. She stopped and handed the stack of cards to Rick. "Shuffle them one time then cut the deck."

Rick opened his eyes and did as he was told. Aldina stacked the cards into one pile again, and placed the five cards on top of the stack in a diamond formation face up.

She clasped her hands and leaned forward against the table. "Now the first card is going to give us a general theme of the reading. The second will touch on past influences that's still have effects on you. Third is about the future. Fourth gives you the reason behind your question. Michonne would call it your subconscious. Finally, the fifth shows the potential within the situation. You ready to begin, Richard?"

Rick nodded; his eyes focused on the cards before him.

Aldina's slender finger pointed to the first card. "This is the Star card. It represents fresh hope and renewal. That is what you want out of life, Richard."

"I do," Rick whispered.

"Your second card is The Tower. This tells me you had violence and a sudden lost in your not too distant past. This is still having an effect on you. You can't have your new hope if you don't deal with this first."

Rick took a sip of his tea; his throat suddenly feeling dry.

"Now we have the The Empress. She's my favorite card in the whole deck. All about happy endings. This girl here can mean the arrival of a literal baby or the birth of a new idea or situation. That can be your future Richard if you truly want it."

Rick hung his head thinking about what could have been with Lori and the baby; wondering if he could have that again.

"This fourth card here shows what's going on in your subconscious. It's The World card. You have a lot of frustration about past events and you fear the change you desperately want. You won't be able to manifest happiness in your life until you deal with that."

"The last few months have been really hard," he admitted.

"I can see it all over you. I could feel your sadness the moment you walked through my door. Now, your final card is The Lovers. It's all about harmony and union between two people. The right person can change your life for the better. Reading all the cards together I can see you long for a peaceful and loving life with the right person, but ghosts are on your back trying to stop you."

"Are these literal ghosts?" His eyes were still focused on the cards; trying to make sense of it all. "My wife...my dead wife...she's been visiting me. It's happened a lot over the months. I finally went to her grave. Apologized for my part in all of this. Haven't seen her since."

"The ghost disappeared, but she may not be gone for good. You said those words to her, but did you really forgive?"

Rick dropped his head and shook it. "No, I guess I didn't."

"Then I believe she can and will come back. She can't rest until she knows you forgive her. Until she knows you and your boy will be all right."

"How can she be so concerned with us now in the afterlife or where ever she's at when she hurt us so much when she was still living?"

"We humans are complicated, Richard even when we're on another plane. Your forgiveness is key to you two breaking free for each other. So she can rest in peace or so you can go on with your life."

"Michonne says forgiveness isn't necessary until you are ready."

"It's not, but you have to be prepared to deal with the consequences if you can't let go of the grief and anger. Michonne still has ghosts too." Aldina left the kitchen and came back a few seconds later with a picture frame. "This is my only child, Deanna. Wasn't she pretty as a peach as just as sweet." She smiled blissfully and shook her head. "That's what her Daddy used to say about her, and it was true. Could sing just like Ella Fitzgerald too. In the olden days people would have said she had a demon on her back that needed to be exorcised, but it was more simple than that. Her brain had a chemical imbalance and she refused the medication and treatment that would have helped her. I used to get mad that she didn't do right or that she self-medicated. But I didn't have to live with that disease every day of my life. She did. I can't judge her. I forgive her for leaving us too soon. Michonne hasn't forgiven herself. She loved her mother more than anything. My granddaughter believes she could have done something to stop what she did."

Rick looked towards the window where he could see Michonne sitting on the porch swing. He had a sudden urge to hug her.

Aldina studied him watching her granddaughter. "You long for love, Richard. The cards told me that, and I can see it myself. You can love again. Greater than ever before, but you have to do the work to get it. There's someone in your life now that would bring you a happiness you didn't know possible. And trust me I know a little something about love. I buried three husbands who worshiped at my feet." Rick couldn't help but smile as the older woman winked at him.

Michonne stuck her head inside the door. "You all done?"

"Yes, we are sweet girl. Get in here. It's time to cut that pie."

Rick and Michonne sat in the kitchen eating their second piece of pie while Aldina was outside doing more gardening. Rick took another bite of his dessert and closed his eyes to savor the pleasure his taste buds were experiencing. "I don't think I've ever eaten anythin' so good in my life."

Michonne nodded emphatically in agreement. "I can't tell you how many times I've eaten Gran's homemade pies, but each time is like a slice of heaven."

Rick reached over to dab off a piece of filling that was still on Michonne's lips. He made the gesture without really thinking until their eyes met, and he jerked his hand back quickly. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to. I just saw it there and wanted to help get it off. I wasn't trying to just randomly touch you..." Rick trailed off realizing he was rambling and making little sense.

"It's okay," Michonne said, "Don't worry about it." She licked her lips. The photo of her mom still sat on the table. She reached for it; her mom's smiling face making her follow suit. "I see Gran was waxing nostalgic about Mom. Did she tell you Mom was pretty as a peach and sung like Ella Fitzgerald?" She let out a soft chuckle.

"She did. Sounds like you went through a lot trying to care for her."

Michonne tucked one of her dreads behind her ear. "I really don't like talking about those days much. I know it's ironic coming from the person who spends her career getting other people to open up about their tragedies. They always say doctors are the worst patients."

"It just makes you human."

"Being human sucks sometimes. You would think we'd evolved to something else by now," she said trying to bring some light-heartiness back to the room. The clock on the wall across from her had the time as five minutes to 6:00 PM. "We probably should get going soon. Gran likes to be in bed early."

"It's been a really good day. Thank you for bringing me here," Rick said sincerely. He stood to take his and Michonne's plates to the sink.

"I just hope it helped."

"It did. Really."

"Are you up to another stop on our road trip?" She asked him.

Rick leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms. "I think I'm up to spending a little more time with you."

They both were smiling at each other across the room when Aldina walked back inside. "Mmm," she said. "The cards never lie."

Michonne sat down on the edge of the pier while looking at the contents of the plastic bag. "Suddenly I'm thinking this isn't such a good idea."

Rick gingerly sat next to her. "Of course it's a good idea."

"No, Rick. I don't think pink champagne is ever a good idea."

"Shit, is it pink?" Rick pulled the bottle out of the bag and looked closely at the label. "I didn't notice. These old eyes of mine."

"If I wake up with the headache from hell tomorrow I'm going to blame you." She turned her head away as Rick popped the cork.

"Well I'll probably be suffering right along with you." He turned up the bottle and took a long drink. "But sometimes you just have to take chances." He passed the bottle to Michonne and she took a long swig herself.

"When's the last time you took a chance?" She asked him.

Rick thought about it. "Never." He blew out a breath. "Damn, I'm the boriest man in the world."

"Come on you had to have taken some kind of adventure."

Rick shook his head. "Nope. I married my high school sweetheart at 20. Entered the Sherriff's deputy academy a couple months later. And that was basically my life for the past two decades."

"Do you regret it?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Seeing the way it all ended," he titled his head to the side and back upright again, "yeah a little."

"But good things happened too. I know you love your job, and you have Carl."

"Yeah, but there's just so much bad too." He took the bottle of champagne as she passed it back to him. "What about you? When's the last risk you took."

She dangled her feet off the pier. "Probably my drive-thru marriage. I think that scared me from taking any big jumps for awhile." She reached into the bag and took out a pack of Twizzlers. She began to thoughtfully chew on the rubbery candy. "I actually just passed up on an adventure. I had a long-term boyfriend. His job transferred him to South Africa. He's probably flying over the Atlantic right now. The plan was for me to go with him, but I called off the relationship instead."

"Why?" Rick stared at profile as she continued to eat her candy and look out into the water.

"Because it wasn't meant to be. I should be sad right now, but I feel free."

"Do you ever want to get married again?"

She handed Rick a piece of her candy before answering his question. "If the right guy comes along."

"What kind of guy are you looking for?"

"I don't know. It's one of those I'll know it when I see it type of situations."

Rick nodded and took another drink of the champagne.

"It may be too soon to ask, but are you willing to love again?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation thinking about his earlier tarot reading. "I don't have much experience with women. I really did love Lori, but I'm not sure how much we liked each other the last years of our marriage. We mostly stayed together out of habit and because of Carl. I think if I ever loved another woman again I'd want to make sure we were friends too."

Michonne laid back on the pier and looked up at the stars. "The friends to lovers trope is so popular for a reason."

Rick laid his body back next to hers; grimacing as his breath hitched. He could feel the splinters of the hard wood against his back, but there was nowhere else he'd rather be at that moment. They watched the stars in silence until Rick spotted something shooting across the sky.

"What was that?" He asked

"It's a bird. It's a plane." Michonne said with a giggle.

Rick looked over at her. "I think someone had a little too much pink champagne."

Michonne shrugged and placed her hands behind her head. "I couldn't resist." She felt him squirm beside her. "How's your body feeling?"

"Pretty good for being beaten, shot, and stabbed."

"She sat up on her elbows."You're taking pain pills, aren't you? We shouldn't be drinking."

"I haven't been taking 'em as much. Didn't take one today. I'd become too dependent on 'em. That night…" Rick's hand started to shake. He cursed under his breath at it happening now. Michonne saw what was happened and gripped his hand in hers. He looked over at her; grateful. "The shakes always come when I think too much about what happened. Getting hurt or shot is always in the back of your mind when you work in law enforcement. But this...I never thought this would be how I almost die."

"How could you?"

"I blamed myself for Lori's affair. I wasn't a terrible husband, but I certainly wasn't the best."

"You can't blame yourself for what other people do. Free will and all of that."

"I just wished I'd done things differently before our marriage got so bad. I shoulda talked more. Told her I loved her more."

"The only thing we can do is learn from our mistakes. So, next time I won't stay with a guy for two years just because we look good together on paper." She nodded her head once over at him "And you?"

"Next time I'll make sure the person I love knows what they mean to me."

Michonne held up her smallest finger. "Okay so now we pinky swear that we'll do these things."

Rick wrapped his left finger around her right one. They stared into each other's eyes. "I swear," he said quietly.

"I swear," she repeated back to him.

Their eyes focused back on the stars above; pinkies still intertwined.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:  Hello all! It’s been so long since I updated this fic. So sorry, but between real life, the Holidays, and losing my outline for this story I just pushed it to the backburner. But now I’m ready to finish. I hope you all enjoy this next installment. It won’t be such a long wait between chapters anymore.
> 
> Also, a Trigger Warning – There is a mention of suicide in this chapter.
> 
> As a reminder, Rick has faced an unbelievable trauma and psychiatrist, Dr. Michonne Lewis is helping him cope and recover.
> 
> Happy reading!

 

**9 Months Ago**

Lori was only supposed to make a quick run into the drugstore to buy a birthday card for their next door neighbor, but her feet stopped walking as she tried to cut through the baby aisle. She was held in a trance by all of the different choices of diapers, bottles, lotions, and powders. Everything had changed so much since Carl was a baby. She rubbed a hand across her stomach. She loved her first pregnancy. It filled her with so much joy. She and Rick were so happy and in love. They couldn't wait for their baby boy to be born. Now some days they barely speak two words to each other. She didn't know how they were going to fair this time, but she felt a new determination to make her marriage work. She reached out to touch a bib that had "Mommy's Little Girl" written in pink letters. She had a feeling this one was going to be a girl. Her daydreaming was broken by a hand gripping her shoulder. She jumped and turned from the display of products. Shane was next to her chewing on his lip.

"Jesus, Shane. You scared me." She crossed her arms over her chest and took a step back away from him.

He moved closer to her until they were toe to toe. "I see you're getting prepared," he said gesturing to all of the baby products.

"I don't have time for this, Shane," Lori said. She tried to walk around him, but he wrapped his meaty hand around her thin arm.

"We need to talk," he said.

"You're hurting me. Let me go," she whispered as she looked around for a way to escape.

He ignored her plea. "Were you going to tell me about the baby?"

"This baby has nothing to do with you."

"Is that right, Lori?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"So I guess I gotta tell Rick about us. Is that what's it going to take for you to realize that we need to be together?"

"Keep your voice down." Lori looked around to make sure there wasn't anyone in earshot. She brought her voice down to a whisper. "Watch what you say in public." She paused and looked over her shoulder again. "We only slept together one time."

"It only takes one time to make a baby."

"That was a mistake, Shane. One I will always regret. I was feeling vulnerable about my marriage. It shouldn't have happened and won't happen again." She started to squirm in his grip trying to release herself. He finally realized how tightly he held her. His hand loosened, but didn't let go completely.

"This is our baby, Lori. I know it. I love you. I know you felt something that night because I did too." His eyes looked wild. A fear started to come over Lori.

"Well, I don't love you," she said with all of the confidence she could muster. "I still love Rick. We're going to work it out. And he's your best friend. Could you really hurt him like this?"

"You're all I care about right now. Rick will just have to get over it."

"This baby is Rick's. End of discussion." She finally pulled away from him and rushed out of the store.

Shane stood in the aisle as he watched her go. He rubbed his head and clutched at the gun at his side.

* * *

**Present Day**

Michonne felt as if someone had stuffed her mouth full of cotton while she slept. She opened her eyes only to close them again quickly. Every light in the small room was on. It made the throbbing in the middle of her forehead feel even worse. She reached blindly for the nightstand until her hand landed on her cell phone. Her eyes only opened wide enough to see the time was 9:59 am. A low groan escaped her mouth as she ran an index finger over her dry lips. Her tight jeans and t-shirt felt as if both twisted around her body while she slept. She wanted to sit-up and adjust them, but was afraid her head would feel like a fifty pound weight if she sat up.

"I'm never drinking pink champagne again," she whispered to herself.

She laid there for nearly an hour until she felt she was ready to open her eyes again. She looked up at an unfamiliar ceiling. Carefully, she finally rose up to a sitting position. When her head felt like it wasn't going to roll off, she slid to the edge of the bed and set her feet on the floor. Rick was sound asleep in the next bed over. His opened mouth and snoring made him seem content in his slumber.

Michonne stood up completely - barely avoiding tripping over her shoes - and walked over to the window. It was fortunate this motel had one vacancy when they checked in late last night. The place had the best view in town. Big waves crashed against the shoreline on the beach that was already starting to fill with people. She took a couple of bottles of water out of the mini fridge and a bottle of Advil from her purse. She watched a group of kids try to jump the waves as she waited for the medication to kick in.

A brochure advertising the tourist attractions in Kingsland, GA sat on the table beside Michonne. She didn't need to read it because she'd paid many visits to the town when she was younger. The urge to see it again was strong after visiting with her Gran the day before.

A knock at the door snapped Michonne out of her reverie and roused Rick from his sleep. He looked around the room confused until his eyes settled on Michonne at the now open door receiving a stack of towels from the housekeeper. The smile on his face was automatic. Waking up and being in her presence just made him happy. She brought a calmness to him he'd never felt before.

Michonne closed the door and saw Rick was awake. "How you feeling?" She asked placing the towels on the table.

"Like I'm never drinking pink champagne again," he said to her.

She chuckled lightly and leaned against the table. "I told myself the same when I woke up."

He sat up and rubbed his temples. "I think my mouth is made of sandpaper right now."

She grabbed the other bottle of water and Advil offering both to him.

"Thanks," he said with a slight smile still on his face. He took a sip of the water to wash down the pill. "A little hangover is a small price to pay though. I really enjoyed last night at the pier."

Michonne smiled back at him. "Me too." She sat down on his bed. "Thanks for indulging in my off the wall idea to come here. I hope I didn't keep you away from anything. Was Carl okay with you gone?"

He nodded and ran his hand through his unruly curls. "Yeah, he spent the night at his friend's house. He was actually happy I was away when I called him last night. Said I needed a life. I can't be hanging out with him forever."

Michonne let out a surprised laugh. "Teens can be so blunt."

"Don't I know it. Joking with him felt good though. We used to do that a lot before everything happened."

"I hope that means you two are finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel."

Rick shrugged and looked down. "Maybe," he said but didn't sound convinced. "So what's the plan for today?" He asked wanting to change the subject.

"I don't know," she said. "I didn't really think this through too much.

"Why did you pick this place?"

Michonne pulled at a thread of her t-shirt before answering. "I used to come here a lot with my mom when I was a kid. We had a lot of weekends with just us girls. She would say we had to get away from all of that testosterone in the house with my dad and brothers."

"Your mom sounds like she was a really good person."

Michonne looked over at Rick and nodded. "She was the best."

He reached over with his left hand and took hold of her right. "Why don't you show me around town? We can relive your happy memories."

"Okay, but I should warn you I may be a burbling mess by the end of the tour. Memories of my mom can be hard. Even the good ones."

Rick gripped her hand tighter. "I'm here for you. Besides I happen to know an excellent psychiatrist. She can help anyone overcome anything," he said with a smirk.

She laughed and gave him a playful shove. "Okay," she stood up and pulled him with her, "so lets get cleaned up. Our first stop will be the diner next door. Some coffee would do us both good."

Rick nodded. "Sounds like a plan." He swept his hand towards the bathroom door. "Ladies first."

The decor of the diner was simple, but charming with the ocean blue booth seats and the waitresses in t-shirts of the same color. The fried eggs had just enough grease to ease their hangovers.

The strong coffee pleased Michonne the most. She sipped from her mug as she watched Rick finish his plate of food. He had enviable long lashes and a strong jaw line. The salt and pepper stubble gave him a distinguished look; made him even more handsome. She wasn't usually a fan of beards, but it accented his face perfectly.

He scrapped his fork across the plate to pick up the last bite of eggs before looking up in time to see Michonne still studying him. Feeling embarrassed she picked up her phone and pretended to read a message.

"Anything important?" He asked her referring whatever was on her phone.

She looked back up at him with an expression on her face he couldn't quite discern. "Not particularly."

Rick wiped his mouth with the thin, paper napkin and cleared his throat. He leaned back against the seat of the booth and crossed his arms over his chest. "I kinda got the feeling you were checking me out?"

Michonne's mouth opened in shock. She started to rub the back of her neck suddenly feeling hot. "What? No. I was looking at you but not...not checking you out. I mean um..." She trailed off when Rick started to laugh.

He threw his hands up. "I'm just ribbing you. He'd never seen her so flustered. It was cute. "Though by your reaction maybe you were checking me out."

"Oh, hush." She threw her balled up napkin at him. He laughed even harder

"Dr. Lewis can't handle the truth."

Michonne held her hand up to signal to the waitress for the check. "I think it's time for us to go." She was laughing right along with him. Their teasing banter felt so natural. As if they've known each other for years.

She moved to take her wallet out of her purse, but Rick reached out to stop her. "You have to quit paying for things when we're together. I got this one."

"If I knew you were going to be so generous I would have taken us to the upscale seafood place across town."

"And I would have gladly paid. You could pretty much ask anything of me and I'd do it."

"That could be a dangerous thing to admit to someone. You don't want to being taken advantage of."

"I know you would never take advantage of me." He paused as his mind went to a place it shouldn't. "Besides I did tell you last night I never took any risks in life. Maybe it's time to live dangerously." He winked at her.

"Looks like I've brought out Rick Grimes' wild side."

"Well -"

"Rick?"

Both turned to see a woman in her mid-forties standing at their booth with her hands placed firmly on her hips. Bleached blonde hair in severe need of a touch up was pulled back into a ponytail.

Rick posture became rigid and his brows kneaded together. "Janice? What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you that. My sister's body isn't even cold yet and you're already moving on." She pointed towards Michonne who watched them both closely.

"Janice, you have the wrong idea." He rubbed at his temple feeling his headache from earlier make a return.

"Oh, I don't think so. Harold convinced me to get away because I've been grieving Lori for months. This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation. Imagine my disgust to find you in the first place we visit smiling and yucking it up with another woman like you don't have a care in the world."

"Rick is right, Janice." Michonne could see how red Rick was turning. She knew she needed to intercede before it became out of hand. "It's not what you think. We're just friends."

"You picked the wrong friend then. My sister is dead because of him."

"I didn't kill her," Rick said through gritted teeth.

"Maybe if you loved her like she deserved she wouldn't have fell into Shane's arms for comfort. None of this would have happened." The woman could barely get her words out as she started to cry.

"This isn't the time or place," Rick said. He could see from his peripheral vision that they had the whole diner's attention.

"Then when is it, Rick? You haven't even paid your respects to Mom and Dad yet. Why don't you think of someone besides yourself sometimes?"

"I was a little busy being in the hospital for weeks, and none of you came to see me either by the way."

Janice turned to address Michonne. "Did he tell you he made Lori be a stay-at-home mom? She had dreams of being a nurse, but all that suddenly went away."

"We mutually decided that she would stay home with Carl. Don't try to rewrite history to fit whatever you have against me." Rick slid out of the booth. "You can hate me all you want, but I can't do this right now." He threw enough money on the table for their food and a tip then walked out of the diner.

"She was on her way to a bright future before she met you," Janice yelled to his retreating back. "You ruined her."

Rick stood outside of the diner feeling more tired than ever. He leaned against the building with the heels of his hands rubbing at his eyes. Michonne walked out and joined him.

"You want to talk about it?" She asked.

"Not really."

They stood there in silence. "You know what she was saying isn't true. I didn't force Lori to do anything," he said.

Michonne nodded. "I know, Rick."

Silence overtook them again.

"Want to go for a walk?" She asked

The tension in his body eased. "Okay." Michonne took his hand as they made their way towards the center of town.

* * *

The serene park was Michonne's favorite place in the town. Tall peach trees shaded a sizeable pond where locals and tourists alike came to do some fishing. On that day only a couple of teens and Rick and Michonne sat around the water.

"Me and Mom used to come here all the time. She liked sitting under trees and watching the action around the pond. We could stay here for hours talking about whatever came to mind. Boys, TV shows, my future. Any and everything. Right after she died I came back here a lot. I could feel her presence." Michonne picked up an abandoned twig and started drawing circles in the dirt beneath the grass.

Rick looked up at the trees noticing how the thick branches almost blocked out the sun. "Did you ever see your mom again?" Michonne stopped her drawings and gave him an inquisitive look. "I mean as a ghost," he amended.

She threw the stick down and wiped her hands on her jeans. "No, but I think Gran may have. She would never tell me for sure. Probably scared of upsetting me."

"So you believe in ghosts?"

"Like I told you when we first met I've seen too many unexplained things too discredit it."

"Yeah I'm starting to get there myself."

Michonne rolled onto her stomach balancing herself on her elbows with her legs bent in the air. She looked up at Rick. "How long have you've been seeing Lori?" Michonne asked.

Rick threw a pebble towards the lake. "Is it that obvious?"

"All of the questions you asked me was a dead giveaway."

"The last time I saw her ghost was after you talked to me and Carl in your old office. We went to her grave. I told her I was sorry and that I forgave her. She faded away after that. But your grandmother said I haven't truly forgiven yet. The past is still haunting me. I have all of these conflicting emotions. I don't know what to feel anymore."

"It hasn't even been a year since she died and you had such severe injuries too. Give yourself time." Michonne tried to comfort him.

He looked into her empathetic eyes and took a deep breath. "It's strange how it feels like it all happened yesterday but at the same time it feels like years have passed. It's like I'm caught in this vortex of time. If that makes any sense."

"It does. Seeing your sister-in-law earlier probably didn't help either," she said.

Rick shook his head. "We didn't get along during the best of times. She tried to talk Lori out of marrying me." He sighed and lay back in the grass with as much grace as he could. "I wish I could hit a fast forward button on my life."

"Patience is called a virtue for a reason."

He scoffed. "I've been patient my whole life. Moving at a slow pace. A little speed wouldn't hurt me. All of these fears and anxieties might do me in soon."

Michonne rested her head on her hand moving closer to Rick. "You're a strong man. A survivor."

"I don't feel strong. I'm scared as hell about the future. What if I never fully recover? What if Carl damaged permanently by what happened?"

"Fear isn't a sign of weakness. We all have them."

Rick rested his hands on his stomach and looked up at her. "What do you fear?"

Michonne was quiet before answering; picking at the grass. "That I'll end up like my mother. Schizophrenia can be hereditary."

"How old was your mom when it started for her?"

"She was thirty-five. I had just started my sophomore year of high school. It's felt like she changed overnight. She was always a social butterfly, but she became withdrawn. Would hardly leave the bedroom. Soon not even to greet us when we came home from school or cook dinner. She would say the oddest things. String words together that made no sense. That went on for a couple weeks. Gran had been out of town. I called her crying when she finally came home and she rushed over. She and Dad took her to the ER and Mom was admitted to the mental ward for the first of many stays. There were times when she was like her old self. We even came back here a couple more times, but that disease was just so hard on her. She couldn't live another day with it so she made the decision to end things permanently." She had a faraway look in her eyes as if she was looking back in time.

"She killed herself," he said and immediately felt silly for stating the obvious. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so blunt."

Michonne waved her hand. "It's all right. That was almost twenty years ago. The ache in my heart is still there. It'll always be there. I miss her so much, but I can't dwell on sorrow. Living a good, happy life is the best tribute I can give my mom."

Rick marveled at her. Tears were gathered in the corners of her eyes. He wanted to wipe them away, but he kept his hands on his stomach. "I wish I had your strength."

Michonne shrugged off his compliment. "Well, like I said, I still have fear that I might have the same disease someday."

"Wouldn't you have symptoms by now?"

"Most likely. But fears aren't always rational."

"And some very much are," he said as he felt his damaged hand twitch.

He looked so broken and sad that Michonne couldn't resist running a comforting hand through his hair. She couldn't explain what had gotten into to her. She didn't usually develop a connection with anyone so quickly, but his pain made her heart ache. "If your body doesn't recover the way you want or if you can't be a Sheriff's Deputy anymore it doesn't make you any less of a person. You're a good man, Rick. Getting to know you has been great."

Rick closed his eyes and sighed. "You're my angel," he whispered. The feel of her touch brought him a bliss he wouldn't be able to find the words to explain.

"You shouldn't put anyone on a pedestal like that. I'm not perfect." Her fingers were intertwined with his curls.

"You are to me," he let out a light chuckle. "These last couple of days have been surreal."

"How's that?"

"Meeting your grandmother, digesting all of the things she told me, spending all of this time with you. There's been a happiness in these last two days that I haven't felt in a really long time. It pushed some of the darkness away. And it's all because of you, Michonne." He opened his eyes and looked into hers. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me Rick." She ran her hand over his forehead. "You've helped me just as much. I don't usually discuss my mom to anyone outside of family. It's just so easy to talk to you."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Rick said. He grabbed her hand to stop her ministrations and caught her eye again. "Getting to know you after everything is the one thing that makes me think that things could be all right one day. You've helped more than you know. Even before we ever met."

Michonne cocked her head to the side; her mouth downturned slightly in confusion. "Before we met? What do you mean?"

Rick remained silent for a few moments debating internally whether or not to tell her. She'd become in, a short time, one of the most important people in his life. She deserved to know everything.

He sat up and she did the same. Taking a deep breath he laid it all out. "Before I knew Dr. Franklin was going away and I'd have a temporary replacement doctor. Before I knew your name or you even existed you were there for me. I saw you in my dreams every night. Your face was the only thing besides Carl keeping me sane. When I walked into your office that day I didn't know what to think. But now it's obvious we were meant to meet. We needed to be in each other's lives." He looked at her full of fear; worried that she would think he'd lost his mind.

Michonne stood. Rick slowly rose also; keeping his eyes on her the whole time. She stuck her hands deep into her jeans pockets. Her brain was working on overdrive. "That explains all of your questions about dream interpretation," she said.

A realization dawned on her and she started to pace. When she didn't say anything more Rick walked up to her stringing his words together quickly. "I shouldn't have told you. I'm sorry. Forget I said anything."

Michonne stopped her movements. She looked deeply into his eyes as if she was seeing him for the first time. Her own were wide in shock. "Gran told me she had a vision that I would meet a man who would know my soul before we ever laid eyes on each other in this realm." The sun finally broke through the trees to shine on the both of them. "She said he would bring me my destiny."


	7. Chapter 7

**9 Months Ago**

Rick wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and sleep for as long as possible. He was worn and tired after working a double shift. His brain hurt from listening to Deputy Harris drone on forever about pickup trucks and NASCAR in those long hours. Shane had left him with a temporary partner for the week while he took some personal days. Though he wouldn't tell Rick what was so personal. He was worried about his friend. Shane had been acting strange lately.

"Anybody home," he yelled. The house was uncharacteristically quiet. He would usually hear Lori finishing up dinner and Carl doing his teenager thing.

The boy stuck his head out of the kitchen. "Did you bring food?" He asked.

"Why hello Dad it's so nice to see you after you worked so many hours to insure I have a good life." Rick rubbed the top of his son's shaggy hair as he walked passed him into the kitchen.

Carl rolled his eyes at his father's sarcasm. "Sorry, Dad. I'm glad you're home. You bring me food?"

Rick chuckled and started unbuttoning his uniform shirt. "Was I supposed to bring any?"

Carl shrugged. "Mom said she was gonna call you and tell you to pick up something on your way home. She had to go out and didn't have time to cook."

Rick looked at his phone but saw no text messages or missed calls. He unbuckled his holster and placed it on the kitchen table. "Did she say where she was going?"

"Nope," Carl said. He headed towards the stairs with a pudding cup and a spoon. "If you're going back out to get the food can we have burgers from Chuck's Diner?"

Rick started calling Lori's cell. "I'll go get something after I get changed."

The call went straight to her voice mail. He scratched the back of his neck as dread overtook him. Something about her being gone didn't feel right.

* * *

Rick drove down Main Street for the third time. The burgers in the backseat were fresh and warm when he first picked them up from the diner. An hour later they were cold and hard as he made yet another loop around the town trying to figure out where Lori went off to. King County wasn't New York City so there were only so many places she could be.

The rural road where Shane lived ran parallel to a ditch. Stray dogs fought for a piece of a dead squirrel in the muddy trench. The image of it felt ominous to Rick. He didn't know if Shane was home but he was at his wits end and hoped his best friend could help him find his wife.

Shock wouldn't be the right word for what he felt when he saw Lori's car parked on Shane's driveway. His cop's instinct going on immediate high alert would be more accurate.

He parked at the curb to watch the house for a few moments. Everything was dark except for a lone light illuminating in the living room window. Some of the light peeked out from the slightly ajar front door. The night sky didn't deter him from seeing the grass in the front yard was about two weeks overdue for a cutting.

Rick reached into the glove compartment of the truck for his off duty pistol. He checked it for bullets before shoving the firearm in his back pocket. Blades of glass brushed at his calves as he walked up the stone trail. Voices yelling at each other could be heard before he reached the front door. He paused on the porch with his eyes closed as the words became clearer.

_"Shane, I told you I'm not leaving Rick. The only reason I'm here is to make sure you understand that I want you to just stop. Stop calling me. Stop coming by the house when you know Rick's not home. I'm raising this baby with my husband and that's it. I'm not breaking up my family."_

_"That's bullshit and you know it Lori. You and Rick haven't been in love for a long time. You should hear the things he says about you. That you're cold, uncaring. He doesn't deserve you. He doesn't know what a good life he's had all of these years."_

_"You're lying. Rick and I have our problems but he would never say those things about me."_

_"Well, I guess you don't know that boy scout as good as you think. What about you crying on my shoulder and telling me how's there's no passion in your marriage anymore. You regret getting married so young. You feel like you wasted your life away."_

_"I said that in a dark moment! Don't you dare use that against me!"_

_"I'm not using shit you don't really feel against you, Lori. You don't love Rick. And you can't tell me that night we had together wasn't full of passion and love. So much so we created that baby inside you."_

The squeak of the door's rusty hinge stopped the yelling and made Lori and Shane turn their heads simultaneously. Lori took a step back when she saw Rick standing in the doorway; the muscles in his jar twitching and a pistol was clutched tightly in his hand.

* * *

**Present Day**

Michonne felt uncomfortable being under the scrutiny of the people around her. She twisted her body on the hard pew and pulled at her fitted black t-shirt. Her hands eventually rested on the lap of her skinny jeans. Sister Wilson, sitting to her right, had given her a disapproving once over when she sat down at the beginning of the service.

Michonne's grandmother was sitting on the other side of her. The woman was wearing a tasteful and simple black dress that touched her ankles. She wore a smirk on her face as she watched the preacher, for the fifth time since the service stated, break out into song.

Michonne leaned down to whisper in her Gran's ear. "I wish you would have told me we were going to a funeral. I would have bought a black dress at one of the shops near your house."

Aldina dismissively waved her concerns away and muttered. "Don't worry, child. You look fine in the eyes of their Lord." Her grandmother then focused back on the preacher; smirk still on her face. "Reverend Jenkins is as long-winded as I remembered. The man can out talk the devil any day of the week."

Michonne's hand didn't cover her mouth in time and a loud laugh escaped. Sister Wilson shushed her and clucked her tongue while she cooled herself down with a church fan embossed with Martin Luther King's face.

Michonne mouthed sorry and twisted her body towards the right. She whispered to Aldina again. "We're at a funeral. Behave, Gran."

The woman just shrugged. "That's what my Daddy used to say about his Daddy. The apple obviously fell right under the tree."

Michonne shook her head and smiled. "You're going to get us kicked out of here," she said.

Aldina just smiled and patted her granddaughter's hand as the organ started playing. The Reverend broke into a rendition of _When We All Get To Heaven_.

* * *

Michonne leaned against her car as she took a ponytail holder out of her pocket. The hot Georgia sun was beating down on her and she tried to get some relief from the heat as she pulled her dreads into a low bun. She shielded her eyes from the rays as she watched Gran on the church steps giving her condolences to the family of the deceased.

She reached into her purse as her phone started to vibrate. A soft sigh blew out of her mouth as she read the calendar reminder that was displayed on the screen. She silently cursed the device for not letting her forget all the responsibilities she was trying to avoid the past couple of weeks. Life couldn't be ignored for much longer.

Or the people in it.

She opened her messages to send a quick note to the assistant she hired to help with opening her new practice letting the woman know she would be back in Atlanta soon. Her finger hovered over the call icon feeling the urge to talk to Rick, but she didn't know what to say to him yet so she just threw the phone back in her purse. She stood upright when Aldina finally started walking towards her.

"People are so shocked to see me in a church," she said to her granddaughter. "Just because I'm not a Christian doesn't mean I can't pay my respects to the dead."

Michonne pulled her sunglasses down from on top of her head and slid them on. "It's probably because they haven't seen you here in awhile."

"Mmmm," said Aldina, "Or they thought I would go up in flames when I stepped inside."

"Gran!"

"Don't look shocked, Michonne. You know these people think I'm Satan's stepsister."

Michonne grabbed Aldina's hand and smiled as they started walking down the sidewalk. The decision to stop to visit her grandmother on the way back to Atlanta was a good one. "Not his stepsister, Gran."

"Sister Pearl wasn't as judgmental as the others," Aldina continued, "God rest her soul. I've known her since before I married your Granddaddy. I had to pay my respects. I'll light a white candle tonight to encourage her soul to leave this plane peacefully."

Michonne dropped her hold of the older woman's hand to hook their arms together as they made their way to Claudine's Bakery. "You're such a good woman, Gran. I wish people didn't judge what they don't know."

"It's human nature, sweet girl. We all do it. Now lets go into this shop for a piece of Claudine's famous apple pie."

* * *

They were the only two people in the tiny, coffee shop. Michonne was grateful for the cool air blowing through the vents as she and Gran shared a slice of pie in comfortable silence.

"So when's the last time you saw Richard?" Aldina finally asked.

Michonne knew that was coming. She swirled a glob of pie filling around the plate with her fork. "Not since we returned from Kingsland. After that I decided to go on the holistic retreat so it's been almost three weeks."

Aldina looked at her granddaughter over the cup of tea she was holding. "I'm still surprised y'all ended up in Kingsland. I don't remember you ever visiting there with Mike. Makes me think there's a lot more there with Richard than you're willing to admit."

Michonne grimaced and leaned back in her chair. "Gran not this argument again."

"Who's arguing? Now fix your face, sweet girl. You don't want him to freeze like that."

Michonne chuckled. "Mom used to always tell me that when I wanted to throw a tantrum."

"And I use to say the same to her. She was such a handful at times." Aldina shook her head wistfully. "My precious girl."

Michonne's mouth down turned and she started fidgeting with her hands. "I told Rick all about Mom. How she became sick. How her death affected me. I don't do that. I don't open up to people like that. Why am I telling him these things?"

"Is that a real question? Because I think you know the answer. You can only hide from the truth but for so long."

"The truth is scary."

"It can be. Doesn't always have to be though if you accept the inevitable."

Michonne stared out the window focusing on the cars passing by the shop. "I had the dream again last night," she finally said.

Aldina put her cup of tea down on the table. "Did you cross the bridge this time?"

Michonne shook her head. "No. The man is still in shadows."

"Hmmm."

"What, Gran?"

She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin then clasped her hands together. "Did Richard tell you about his tarot reading?"

Michonne leaned closer. "No. I didn't ask about it either. I didn't want to pry."

"The man's been through a lot, but he wants to live life again. He wants to love again."

"Is that what the cards told you?"

"They did. I didn't need the cards to figure that out though. It's obvious every time he looks at you."

Michonne put her head in her hands. "No, don't tell me that, Gran."

Aldina pulled Michonne's hands from her face. "What's wrong, sweet girl?"

"Rick told me he dreamed about me before we met for the first time at my office. He thinks we were meant to happen. It was written in the stars I suppose." She locked eyes with her grandmother. "It reminded me of your vision."

Aldina nodded.

"You probably knew that as soon as I walked into your house with Rick though," Michonne said.

"I just know what the ancestors deem to tell me. I can't tell you where you and Richard's relationship goes from here. But your paths were meant to cross."

Michonne shook her head. "But he was my patient," she said. "Maybe that should have been the extent of our relationship. I've been accused of caring too much for my patients before. Maybe this time I went too far."

"Do you really believe that?"

Michonne sighed. "No, I don't. Besides he's not my patient anymore."

"No, he's not. He's much more than that."

Michonne smirked at her Gran. "He's the one that's leading me to my destiny, right?" She started rubbing her shoulder as a familiar tension started building up in the muscles.

Aldina tilted her head to the side to study how stressed her granddaughter looked before speaking. "I thought that retreat was supposed to be relaxing, but you've been fidgeting around more than a jack rabbit in heat since you got here."

Michonne shrugged. "I was left alone with my thoughts a lot. That wasn't always a good thing."

"So why did you go? You thought you could tofu and yoga your way out of your destiny?"

Michonne's laugh was dry and humorless. "Something like that. After he told me about the dreams I really didn't know what to do. I thought the retreat would clear my mind, but he was all I could think about when I was there."

Aldina added more sugar to her tea. The sound of the spoon against the porcelain cup echoed in the nearly empty cafe. "Maybe that was all you were supposed to think about. Stop running, child. Your life will go where it needs to once you accept things as how they should be."

"But Gran we haven't known each other for very long and he's still healing from everything that happened. It wasn't that long ago that he lost his wife."

Aldina lifted Michonne's chin so she could look her on the eye. "I'm not telling you to hop in bed with him tonight, child. Or ever. Just stop and listen for what the universe is trying to tell you."

Michonne laughed feeling slightly embarrassed. "I wasn't thinking about sleeping with him, Gran."

Aldina smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Mmmhmm."

"I wasn't!" Michonne felt her cheeks heat up. She was glad no one else was in the cafe. "But I get what you're saying, Gran. I really do." She slid her chair across the floor to give her grandmother a hug. "How did you get so wise?"

Aldina hugged her granddaughter tightly. "Oh, I'm no more wise than the next woman, child. Don't let all of this gray hair fool you. I just listen to the spirits more so than most people."

Michonne laid her head on Aldina's shoulder. "Well, whatever it is, I'm just glad I have you."

Aldina stroked her granddaughter's hair. "Me too, my sweet girl. Me too."

* * *

Lori's favorite dress was missing from the closet. She'd bought it on a rare shopping trip to Atlanta with her sister. It was royal blue, sleeveless, with an a-line hem. She always paired it was a matching lace shawl. Rick had taken everything out of the closet, but the dress nor the shawl were there. Three big boxes were in front of him. One had GOODWILL written in big letters on the side. The other had CARL, and the last was already addressed to Lori's parents. He was going to send the dress, amongst other things, to them. He thought her sister would want the garment. As he walked downstairs to check the laundry room he felt a chill go through his body as it dawned on him why the dress was missing: she had been buried in it. He rubbed at his eyes the stop the pressure of tears he could feel building up. Not having the chance to attend her funeral, he never saw how she was laid to rest. His anger was at such a boiling point then he wasn't so sure he would have attended even if he wasn't laid up in the hospital. He sighed and scratched the back on his neck.

The living room was also filled with boxes. After the incident with him stomping on the wedding photos Carl and Rick's cousin had put every picture in the house in boxes and stored them in the basement. He figured nine months was enough time to hide from the memories. Moving on wasn't an option until he faced the past.

He opened the first box to find the wedding photos staring back at him. There were still blood smears around the edges. Rick shook his head feeling disgusted with himself at his son seeing him loose it that night. He closed that box and started on another. There were hundreds of photos in the boxes: Carl's baby photos, birthday parties, holidays, snaps of their limited vacations and more were all there. He pulled out a photo album and flipped through the pages; surprised he could actually smile at some of the scenes before him. But a picture on the last page made his breath hitch. It was him and Shane on their first day at the Deputy's Academy. They were smiling big and bright for the camera with their arms around each other. The excitement at starting a new life together shone through the photo. Partners for twenty plus years and friends for even longer all down the drain in one night.

"It didn't have to end this way, Shane," he whispered to the photo. He dropped the album back into the box when he heard the front door open. Seconds later Carl came through carrying a bundle of boxes.

"Got some more boxes down at the drugstore, Dad. What do you want me to do with them?" The teen plopped down on the couch next to his father.

Rick placed the top back on the box of photos. "Take them upstairs and save a couple for yourself so you can start packing up what you're donating to the Goodwill."

"Sure thing, Dad." Carl moved to get up, but Rick held out his arm to keep the teen on the couch.

"You doing okay, son?" he asked.

Carl rolled his eyes. "You ask me that every day, Dad. I'm fine."

Rick turned his body so he can look at his son closely. "Forgive your old man for caring. I just want to make sure you're all right."

Carl scratched at the back on his neck looking so much like his father. "I'm fine," he said again. "I mean I do miss Mom...a lot. But I didn't think you'd want to hear that."

Rick raised his eyebrows. "Why wouldn't I want to know that?"

"Because you hate Mom."

Rick sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "Carl, I don't hate your mom. I know you've seen me do so crazy things since she died. I hit rock bottom and I'm just climbing my way up now. I want to apologize to you for that. For not always being the father I should have been these last few months."

"So, you don't mind that I wish she was still here?" Carl asked timidly.

Rick pulled the boy into a tight hug. "Of course not, Carl. I wish she was still here too. No matter what went on between me, her, and Shane I loved and cared about your mother. Most importantly she adored you. Since the day you were born you were her world. I believe there's some kind of afterlife out there, and I know your mother will always be somewhere still looking out for you and proud of the man you're becoming."

Carl was trying not to cry, but a lone tear made a trail down the right side of his face. Rick gently wiped it away with his thumb. "I'm proud of you too. I love you, Carl."

The teen wanted to be embarrassed by his Dad's affection, but he held onto him tighter instead. "I love you too, Dad." Both father and son had to wipe the tears from their eyes as they pulled away from each other.

"So are you still mad at Mom?" Carl asked.

Rick rubbed his hands against his jeans and cleared his throat. "Truthfully, I don't even know anymore. I think a part of me still wants to be, but I know I can't hang on to that anger forever."

Carl kicked at one of the box of photos. "I've been going down to the basement to look at these photos every few days. I was scared I'd forget what she looked like. I don't want that."

Rick kissed his son's temple. "Let's put some of the pictures back out then. Pick out the ones you want and we'll put them on the mantle."

Carl smiled. "Okay, Dad. I'll go start packing up my stuff." He plodded to the stairs, but stopped abruptly. "Can I ask you one more thing?

"Sure," Rick said.

"What's going on with you and Dr. Lewis? I mean Michonne."

Rick stood and crossed his arms over his chest. It was a question he'd been asking himself at lot since their trip to Kingsland. "Umm...we're friends, son."

"Just friends?" Carl asked skeptically.

"She's helped me so much and is very special to me, but right now we're just friends."

Carl nodded. "I like her. She doesn't talk to me like I'm a little kid like most adults do."

Rick laughed and nodded. "Yeah, she's pretty great."

Carl ran the rest of the way up the stairs. Rick heard the bedroom door slam and the sound of the X-Box starting. He knew no packing would be happening anytime soon.

The growl that erupted from Rick's stomach let him know it was lunchtime. He started to the kitchen to try to whip together a meal for him and Carl when his phone rang. The name displayed on the screen made him hit the talk button as fast as he fingers allowed.

"Hello?" His voice sounded desperate and urgent to his ears.

"Hey, Rick. It's me. Michonne."

Rick smiled at the sound of his voice. "I know. I bought me one of those smart phones that's all the rage. Comes with that handy caller I.D."

"Well, look at you being all modern." Michonne laughed. She couldn't believe how good it felt to hear his voice.

"Figured I needed to finally step into modern times. So, are you back in Atlanta?

"I am. I've been back all of ten minutes. Spent a couple of days with Gran." Rick couldn't help smiling wider at the fact she thought to call him so soon after her return.

"So how was the retreat?"

"It was...thought provoking. I really needed to get away from everything."

Rick's stomach suddenly felt heavy. He wondered if she needed to get away from him too.

"But I'm glad to be back," Michonne continued. "I was wondering if you're free tonight. Maybe I could come over."

Rick immediately perked up. "Yes, please come by. I missed you."

Michonne felt an uncharacteristic shyness come over her. "I missed you too." She closed her eyes and shook her head at how soft her voice sounded.

"You can have dinner with me and Carl. I'll cook."

Michonne was incredulous. "Mr. Frozen Dinners is going to cook?"

Rick chuckled. "Okay fair enough. How about I order us something to eat."

"Much better. How about pizza?" Michonne asked.

"I was thinking something a little fancier for you."

"I spent two and a half weeks eating vegan meals and drinking green tea at the retreat. My body is craving junk food."

Rick laughed again. "Well pizza it is then."

"Then it's a -" Michonne paused before she called it a _date._ "I'll see you at seven?" She asked instead.

Rick looked at his watch. It was 1:31 PM. He had less than six hours to make the house look decent for her. "I'll be counting down the minutes."

* * *

Rick opened the door before Michonne's hand barely grazed the door knocker. The gravity of just how much he'd missed her didn't hit him until he saw her standing on the porch with a shopping bag in her hand. When she tilted her head to the side with a slight smile on her face he realized he'd been staring too long. He moved aside and ushered her into the house.

"Welcome to our humble lodging," he said.

"Thank you." Michonne raised up the bag. "I come bearing gifts."

"Let me guess, candy bars," Carl said as he came down the stairs wearing a fresh polo shirt and khakis that his dad made him change into.

Rick was wearing a white button-down shirt and his best blue jeans. Carl had protested dressing up for dinner in their own home, but as he eyed Michonne in the beautiful black and white sun dress she was wearing, Rick knew he'd made the right call.

"I have something better than candy bars." She pulled out a box of Godiva Cake Truffles. "Your tongue will be thanking you for days once you get a taste of these."

"Awesome!" Carl exclaimed.

"Remember to share with your Dad." Her eyes met Rick's and she gave him a wink.

Carl shrugged. "We'll see," he said as he eyed the treats.

Rick scoffed. "I'm never going to see one of those cakes."

"Well," Michonne started as she reached into the bag again, "I have something else that you won't have to share." She pulled out a stack of at least twenty comic books. "I stopped by an indie comic shop after I left the retreat. Found a load of cool, rare things for you."

In a flash she had a pair of gangly, teenage arms wrapped around her waist. "Michonne you're amazing. Thank you so much! I'm going to go start reading these at the kitchen table until the pizza gets here."

Rick's smile stretched across his face. He was deeply touched by how good she was to Carl.

Michonne looked over her shoulder at where Rick was standing and the uncharacteristic shyness overtook her again. She dipped her head and tucked a wayward dread behind her head.

"I have a couple things for you too," she said softly.

Rick walked closer to her. "You didn't have to do that." His tone matched hers.

"I know but I wanted to." She looked up at Rick as he stood close. She noticed his facial hair had grown more and he had a neatly trimmed beard. It looked good on him. He noticed her hair smelled lightly of lavender and he had to resist the urge to breathe her in. "The first is a little something to spice up your wardrobe. I bought an extra large. I hope it fits." She held up a black t-shirt with a white cat doing yoga. The words _Downward Yoga_ were written at the top. "I saw and thought it was _so_ you."

Rick took the shirt and stretched out his arms to get a good look. "Well I can see why you'd think that. Me and this cat look to be kindred spirits."

"I expect you to be wearing it next time I see you," she joked

"You can guarantee it."

"The last thing is something you definitely won't have to share. Well except with me."

Rick quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Now I'm really intrigued." The flirty tone he used was one he hadn't heard from himself since before he was married. And even then he never used it well. He loved the sound of Michonne's giggle as she pulled out a bottle of non-alcoholic sangria.

"I figured this would go well with the pizza. And I know you're cutting back on the drinking so..." She tilted her head to the side and smiled adorably.

Rick threw the t-shirt over his shoulder and took the bottle from her. He was overwhelmed by her thoughtfulness and generosity. He felt like crying happy tears, but held back. "It's perfect."

* * *

Rick poured more sangria into Michonne's glass as they lounged on the couch. The hum of the air conditioner was the only sound in the room as the muted TV projected shadows against the walls. Their eyes locked and both looked away quickly. The ease of the conversations they had while eating dinner left once Carl went upstairs to do some more reading. A new tension hung heavy in the room with just the tow of them there. The elephant was stomping around; tired of being ignored.

Michonne cleared her throat. "So...um..."

Rick tapped his fingers against his knee. "So..."

Michonne shook her head at how silly she was being. "It seems like we suddenly lost the ability to communicate."

Rick took a sip of his drink. "I guess Carl was a good buffer for what we're both too afraid to discuss."

"A wise woman told me recently that we don't have to be afraid of the truth." She angled her body towards him. "I know we haven't talked much since our trip to Kingsland."

"No," Rick said. "But I understood why. There were a lot of...revelations for both of us that day."

"There were and it honestly scared me. I couldn't process everything I was feeling. That's why I left on that retreat."

Rick nodded. "You needed to take your time. We both did. These past couples of weeks have been good for me."

Michonne took in the brightness of his eyes and the fact he'd had gained some weight. "I can see that. You look healthier. You're even moving better."

"I've been trying. Even going to all my therapy sessions. I want...I want to live a good life for me and Carl."

Michonne laid her hand over his that was still resting on his knee. "I want that for you too, Rick. I've been doing at lot of thinking. A lot of soul searching." She paused.

Rick could see how hard she was thinking about what to say next. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

She smiled at him "I know." She sighed and smoothed out the skirt of her dress. "It's...there is this pull I feel towards you that I've never experienced with anyone else before. I buried it deep down because you were my patient and it wouldn't have been ethical."

"But I'm not anymore," Rick countered.

Michonne nodded thinking how she said something similar to Gran. "No, you're not. Remember those dreams I told you about?" She asked. He nodded. "The crossing of the bridge and the shadowed stranger means I'm scared to cross the line to what my soul has been longing for."

"And what is it longing for?" Rick asked quietly.

Michonne shook her head and just looked at him. "I'm still working up to that."

"I'll be here whenever you figure out," he said. "It's only been a short while we've known each other but you've become the most important person in my life besides Carl." Rick looked at her from his peripheral; scared to look at her fully in case admitting that was too much.

But it didn't scare her. She was touched by his sincerity. She intertwined their fingers. "I care about you a lot, Rick. I think we still have so much to learn about each and I'm willing to see how our friendship will blossom."

Rick tightened their handhold and finally looked her in the eye again. "If nothing more comes out of this than us being friends then that's okay. I'm just grateful to have you in my life in any way."

Michonne reached up to sweep a fallen curl from his forehead. "So am I, Rick."


	8. Chapter 8

**9 Months Ago**

Rick's felt simultaneously like he was about to blackout and his senses had gone into overdrive. He blinked his eyes rapidly to try to get them to focus. His heart was pounding in his chest and seemed to echo in his head. It felt like someone had a strong grip of his intestines. The bead of sweat was cool against his face as it dripped from his hairline and pooled under his chin. The handle of the gun he gripped was slick from his clammy hand. His nose twitched as Lori moved closer to him. The whiff of her perfume in his nostrils - the perfume he'd bought her on their last anniversary - made his stomach sink even further.

"Don't," he grunted. His voice was low as his wife tried to reach out to him.

"It's not what you think, Rick," Lori said. Her voice was full of desperation.

"Don't," he said again. "Don't lie to me, Lori." He looked around the living room where he'd spent so much time over the years drinking beer and watching football games. Shane was nowhere to be seen. Rick figured the man now was being a coward; not willing to face his best friend.

Lori hung her head. "I'm sorry, Rick." Her voice was choked with tears. "I'm so sorry."

Rick's became glassy and he turned his back. He couldn't look at her. "I know I wasn't the best husband. But I loved you. I really did."

Lori grabbed his hand trying to make him turn back to her. "I love you too, and I never meant for this to happen."

Rick jerked away from her. "But it did." He faced her again to put his hand on her stomach. "I love this baby too…already. But she might not even be mine."

Lori stepped closer and put her hand over his. "This is your baby. Our baby. Regardless."

Rick shook his head. "It doesn't work like that, Lori. You can't say the words and make what happened magically disappear. Truth is we were barely hanging on. We've been just going through the motions these past coupla years."

Lori shook her head emphatically. "I don't accept that. What about Carl?"

Rick felt a raw, rage go through his body. The back of his neck became hot. Lori jumped back and covered her mouth with her hand as Rick's fist smashed into glass panel of the front door. Shards of glass pierce his skin and driblets of blood cascaded down to his wrist.

"Goddamit, Lori," he yelled. "Don't bring our son into this mess. This is on us."

"Therapy," she said with desperation tinged in her voice. "We can try therapy. I'm willing to do anything to make this right." She walked over to him again and put her hand on his face but he flinched away.

"Why did it have to be my best friend, Lori? I think I could have forgiven anyone else. But my best friend? My brother? Why him?"

"I don't know," she put her hand on her head, "We'd had another fight then you left to take Carl on that fishing trip. Shane came by and I just needed a shoulder to cry on. He was there and one thing led to another..." she trailed off. Rick's hand ached as he balled it into a fist. He barely felt the pain. "It wasn't an affair. It only happened that one time. I know I messed up and don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm willing to work for it."

The tears were rolling down Rick's face now. "I think it's too late." He wiped at his face with his injured hand causing blood to smear over his cheek.

Lori stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. "It's not too late, Rick. It's not."

Rick stood there with his arms at his side feeling every emotion – sadness, rage, shame, regret and more – run through him. "I don't think you really love me anymore," he said quietly. "I think it's just the guilt talking."

Lori looked at him with his tear stained face. "With some work we could maybe fall in love all over again." She no longer sounded so confident.

"No, Rick is right, Lori. It's fuckin' too late," Both turned as Shane made a reappearance from the back of the house. He carried his own gun in his hand. Rick pushed Lori behind him. "Truth is you had your chance and you blew it, brother. I can take care of Lori, Carl, and that baby better than you ever could."

"I think you can stop calling me brother now," Rick's voice was menacing. "It's obvious you aren't mine anymore. I can't even recognize you."

"You never appreciated what you had. I sat in that squad car with you so many fuckin' times listening you talk about Lori saying this and Lori saying that," He mimicked Rick's voice. "Complaining about a woman who just wanted you to talk to her. Truth is everyone would be better off if you weren't here." He lifted his gun and pointed it at Rick.

"No!" Lori screamed.

"Stay back!" Rick yelled at her. He lifted his own gun. "Don't make me have to do this."

Shane grinned at him. "You ain't got it in you, boy scout." He moved in closer to Rick.

The muscles in Rick's jaw started to twitch. "You don't want to do this."

Shane let out a short laugh and dropped his gun to the couch. He raised his hands in the air. "You're right, Rick. All I want is what's mine now and that's Lori and that baby."

"Lori doesn't belong to you. She doesn't belong to either of us. She makes her own choices."

Shane moved even closer to Rick. "She made a pretty definite choice when she was moaning underneath me on your couch."

"Shane, please," begged Lori. Her face was buried in her hands and she was full out crying now.

Rick closed his eyes and his hand started to shake as his breaths came out harder. He lifted the gun higher. "I guess this is how you want to play this."

Shane stepped up again. He was inches away from where Rick stood in front of the living room window. Only the gun separated them.

"I ain't playing a game, Rick."

Shane's reflexes were quicker than Rick's. Before he had time to react, Shane pulled a knife from his back pocket and pushed the blade into Rick's right side. He fell back and grunted as the pain registered on his brain. His finger pulled back the trigger as he fell backwards. The shot didn't go anywhere near Shane. It hit the overhead light causing the room to go dark. Shane charged at Rick and both flew through the living room window.

Glass shattered everywhere; covering the porch and lawn. Rick fell onto his back as blood ran from his mouth. He tried to turn on his side to cough up the blood that was clogging his throat, but was forced on his back again. The first punch hit him in the eye. He felt the next several all over his body.

Lori tried to pull Shane off. "Stop, you're going to kill him." Shane pushed her away from him. She fell hard on the lawn face first onto pieces of glass. Multiple cuts scarred her face.

"I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You." Shane punctured each word with a punch. He only stopped punching to grip Rick's neck in his hands.

Rick's eyes bugged out of his head as he fought to breath. The gurgling of blood this in his throat could be heard. His face started to turn a light shade of purple.

Rick used his last strength to reach his arm out. His hand landed on a wooden handle – Shane's knife that had fallen from his hand on impact. He used all of his might to try to grab the handle, but Shane saw what he was doing. He swept up the knife before Rick could reach it.

He stabbed Rick in the side again. And again.

Lori's scream was deafening.

Shane moved to try to stab him in the neck. Rick grabbed Shane's forearm with his left hand to try to stop the knife from coming down. The blade was inches away from his face. He put up his right hand just as the knife would have descended onto his face. It cut into the tendons and nerves; tearing into his whole palm.

An animalistic scream erupted from Rick as tears from the pain stung eyes. Pure adrenaline made his knee come up hard between Shane's legs causing the man to fall over into the fetal position.

Rick turned his torso to the side and coughed up the blood in his mouth and throat. The top of his white t-shirt was stained a dark shade of red.

"Lori," he choked out. "Lori."

"Rick, I'm right here." She scrambled to his side.

He grabbed her hand and she helped him stand. He couldn't rise to his full stature. Lori put an arm across his back as he staggered, bent over, on his feet. "We have to get out of - "

A shot rang out into the night. Rick's body jerked back as the impact hit him in the shoulder. His feet were on the edge of the ditch. Another shot hit him in the side. He fell into the ditch; his blood seeping into the mud.

Shane stood just above him. He raised the gun again to put the final kill shot in Rick's head. Before he could Lori grabbed his arm.

"Please," she begged him. Shane looked at the crying and bloody woman then back at Rick.

"He'll probably be dead soon anyway." He grabbed Lori by the neck and dragged her to his car in the driveway.

"Please, we have to help him," she kept crying over and over.

Shane backed down the driveway with the driver's side door still open.

Rick was starting to blackout again. He couldn't feel his body anymore. The sounds of the night – neighbors coming out to see what all the commotion was about, dogs barking, a car zooming down the street – sounded as if was happening miles and miles away. Everything was hard to hear with the ringing in his ears. The last thing he registered before passing out completely was the dogs coming up to him and licking and gnawing at his feet.

**xxx**

Rick blinked once, twice, then a third time. After each blink his vision became clearer. The blurry images he saw soon became the smooth white of a ceiling. His whole body felt as if it was on fire. He tried to say something but nothing but murmurs game out. It was then he realized he had a breathing tube in his mouth. Machines beeped all around him. He tried to feel around the bed for some kind of call or distress button. Before he found anything a nurse came into the room.

"Oh, Deputy Grimes. You're awake. Let me get the doctor."

An older gentleman with salt and pepper hair and brown skin entered the room. He was wearing a white lab coat. "Deputy Grimes, good to see you awake," he said. "I'm Dr. Miller. You experienced quite the injuries, but your vitals look good. You're going to have a long road ahead of you but for now you're stable."

Rick just stared at the man trying to understand what he was telling him. He lifted his hand to try to point to his wedding ring that was missing from his finger. His whole right hand was wrapped heavily in gauze and bandages. The doctor seemed to know what he was asking and suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"The Sheriff is here. I'll let him explain everything to you."

The doctor left and soon Sheriff Ned Parsons walked in and took off his hat. He took in his battered and bruised deputy. Rick was pale under the purple and blue bruises that were all over his face and body not covered by the hospital grown. His right eye was completely closed. A few days worth of stubble covered his face. His chest moved up and down with the aid of the breathing machine.

Ned looked away from Rick and walked to the window. He focused on the manmade pond in front of the hospital. His large jowls were red and his forehead held beads of sweat. He kept opening and closing his mouth not knowing where to start. "You look like shit, Grimes." That was what he would usually say good-naturedly to his deputies, but it fell flat this time. He scratched at his chin.

Rick again pointed to the missing ring on his finger.

Ned hung his head. "After Walsh left you in the ditch from what we can gather he took off in his truck with Lori. He was traveling at a high speed. Well over a hundred miles. We're not entirely sure what happened next. From the skid marks on the highway it looks like Walsh lost control of the car and it flipped over the guardrail. There was an explosion on impact." He paused. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this Grimes, but they both burned. Didn't survive."

Rick's heart rate started to accelerated. He wanted to shout. To cry. But the only thing he was able to do is give a tortured moan.

The Sheriff cringed at his deputy's pain. "We searched his house. Seems like he was in a bad way. There were plenty of empty bottles of liquor in his trash. And multiple bottles of some kind of steroid. An anabolic or some kind of shit the medical examiner said. Makes a person loose it in a few different ways."

Ned sat his hat back on his head. "Your boy is at my house with my wife until Lori's parents and your cousin get to town. He wanted to come, but I thought it was best for him not to see you this way."

Tears ran from Rick's eyes down to his temples. The machines started beeping and going off all around the room. He felt his body convulse. Ned ran to get a doctor as the seizure took over Rick.

* * *

**Present Day**

Michonne's Puma sneakers squeaked against the hardwood floors in the now empty house. She could see Rick and Carl through the window loading the last of the boxes into the U-Haul. She knelled down to place a white candle in the center of what used to be the Grimes' living room. Her ponytail swung as she turned at the sound of the front door opening. The guys walked back inside. Rick held his right arm close to his body and used his left hand to massage the shoulder. She stood again and raised an eyebrow at him; silently asking if he was okay. He nodded and gave her a half-smile.

"Everything's in the truck," Carl said as he rocked back and forth on the heels of his shoes. His mouth downturned into a frown and his hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of his shorts. He looked around the empty house. "It's weird seeing it like this."

Rick put his hand on Carl's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "It is, but this is for the best."

Carl nodded. "I know and I'm ready but," he looked around the house again, "this has been the only home I've known. This is the last place I saw Mom. I'm just kinda sad to leave it."

"We're leaving this house, but your memories of your mom will be around always. We're not leaving that behind." His eyes locked with Michonne's. "Is it ready?"

"It is," Michonne said. She beckoned Rick and Carl to come closer to the candle. She pulled out the lighter from her pocket and bent down to light the wick. She held out both of her hands for Carl and Rick to take. The three of them stood around the candle in a circle with their hands clasped.

Rick took a deep breath. "I'm not sure what to say."

"Just speak from your heart," Michonne said. She looked at Carl and then back to Rick. "It can be simple. When Gran does this she always just lets the spirit know it's okay to move on to the next plane. That those she loves will be okay on this one."

"You want to start, Carl?" Rick watched his son closely.

"Okay." The teen's voice came out small. "Um...Mom. I guess I'm still too young to understand why you did what you did, but that doesn't really matter anymore. All I know is that I love you and wished you were still here. But me and Dad are gonna be okay. You can go to where your spirit can rest. I just hope I can keep making you proud." Carl turned to his father. "Was that okay?"

The tears in Rick's eyes matched his son's. "That was perfect." His eyes focused on the light coming off the fire. He tried to formulate the words, but they didn't come until Michonne squeezed his hand. "I forgive you, Lori. For everything. I don't have any more anger in my heart for what happened. I can't hate you anymore for mistakes we both made. We all need to heal from this pain. I promise to take care of our son and make sure he continues to be this amazing young man. Rest, Lori. We're going to be alright." He let out a long exhale. "Feels like I should say 'Amen' but this ain't exactly a Christian service."

Michonne smiled at him. "You can say whatever you want, Rick. Whatever makes you feel comfortable."

"Well, then. Amen."

"Amen," both Michonne and Carl repeated.

**xxx**

"Can I ride with Michonne?" Carl asked as he the swung the backpack - full of comics and snacks - on his shoulder.

Rick stopped in front of the U-Haul with the keys in his hand. "You don't want to ride with me?" he asked.

"Michonne drives a Range Rover and she has way better music than you."

Rick chuckled and shook his head. "The honesty of teenagers. If Michonne's okay with it than I am too."

Michonne walked up behind the two of them. "If I'm okay with what?"

"The boy over here wants to ride with you."

"Oh, sure. I'm always up for a road trip buddy." She turned to Carl and faked whispered. "Besides I think you might have much better taste in music than your dad. He made me listen to Willie Nelson on our trip to Kingsland."

Carl looked over at his dad with an _I told you so_ expression. "Thanks, Michonne." He ran over to the passenger's side of her SUV and jumped in.

Michonne shrugged her shoulders at Rick. "I guess I'm just way cooler than you."

Rick smiled . He squinted from the sun and leaned against the front of the truck. "I can't argue with that." He grabbed her hand and pulled her a little closer to him. "Thank you."

Michonne tilted her head to the side. "For what?"

He looked up at the sky then back at her. "I think you know."

She nodded her head in understanding. "You're welcome. That's for friends are for."

Rick intertwined their fingers to tighten the hold of her hand. "And there's no better one to have than you."

Michonne studied their hands then looked back up at him with a smile. "I'll make sure Carl gets there safely."

"Of that I have no doubt. You have the address?"

"Yeah," she held up her phone with her free hand. "You texted it to me last night."

"That was actually Carl. I'm still trying to figure out how to use that phone."

Michonne laughed. "Okay, old man. See you in Atlanta?"

He kissed the top of her hand. "See you there."

Michonne started to walk backwards to her car, but didn't let go of his hand until she had to. She turned after the last brush of their fingertips. She walked a few paces then turned back around. Her hand went into her purse to pull out another candle.

Rick eyebrows knitted together in curiosity. He walked closer to her. "What's that one for?"

"I think there's one more soul that may need some help passing through to the other side."

Rick shook his head understanding immediately. "Shane never appeared to me. His soul is probably already gone." He sighed. "After what he did, I don't think I can find the words to forgive, anyway."

"If you don't it'll always weigh heavy on your heart. You need to put him to rest if not for him then for you."

Rick nodded and took the candle from her. She brought her hands around his neck and hugged him. He closed his eyes and held her tightly. They pulled away each with small smiles on their faces.

His eyes followed her as she climbed into the car, started it, and took off slowly down the street. He didn't move until the car turned at the intersection. His eyes then looked up at the window that used to be the bedroom he shared with his wife. Lori was standing there. For the first time since she started appearing to him there was a smile on her face. He could make out her mouth forming the words _thank you_. He gave a single nod and waved at her. She waved back as her form slowly disappeared.

**xxx**

He slowly drove down the street for the first time since the night his world changed. The ditch was half-way filled with water from the recent rain. All was quiet though he could see a few neighbors peaking out at him from their windows. He felt a sense of déjà-vu come upon him with every step he took on the path that led to the front porch. He stopped there; not having the mental strength to go inside. He placed the candle on the wooden porch. He squatted and lit it with his lighter.

He stared at his hand that still had the scars and permanent damage inflected on him by his best friend. He cleared his throat. "Shane, I really don't know what to say. You were my brother then you betrayed me. I could spend the rest of my life hating you and you would still deserve more, but that wouldn't do me any good. I can't hold on to this hate anymore. So I light this candle for your soul to pass over. I don't know what I believe anymore. I don't know if there's a heaven or a hell or which one you would go to. But I'll never forget what we had before everything went so wrong."

Rick extinguished the fire with his fingers. He walked back to the U-Haul and drove out King County with a smile on his face.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place 9 months after Rick and Carl move to Atlanta. Lori and Shane died 18 months ago.

 

**9 Months Later**

Michonne leaned back in her chair as she kicked off her heels and swung her legs onto the top of the desk. She held a mug of green tea tightly in one hand and tapped a pen absentmindedly on the arm of the chair with the other. Her brow creased as she studied the file displayed on the large computer monitor. The complexity of the issues her latest patient was dealing with had her in deep research most of the morning.

She tore her eyes away from the screen when she heard two short raps on the office door.

"Come in," she said and went right back to looking at the screen.

Her assistant opened the door and stuck her head in. "Michonne, Rick Grimes is here to see you."

Michonne sat her mug on the desk and smiled. "You can send him in." She stood, smoothed her blouse, and straightened her ponytail.

Rick walked in wearing a big smile. He held a plastic take-out bag with two styrofoam containers inside and another bag with drinks. His rugged handsomeness was enhanced by the salt and pepper beard that framed his face. He was in his usual outfit of buttoned-down shirt, jeans, and boots. The small conference table in the corner of her office was free of papers for once. He started emptying the bag of food there.

"I've come with lunch," he said.

She walked over to the table causing him to pause in his actions to give her a kiss on the cheek. Once the food was displayed on the table he looked down and noticed her bare feet. "Had to get rid of the torture devices?"

Michonne laughed and briefly stood on her toes. "My brain works better with bare feet. So what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Had some free time after my appointment so I wanted to surprise you with lunch. Hope I didn't interrupt anything."

Michonne sat at the table. "No, this is great. I would have probably worked right through lunch. I could use the break." She smiled up at him. "Thank you."

He took a seat across from her and smiled back. "Anytime. Got you that salmon salad you like." He handed her a bottle of water.

"Perfect. You know me so well." She poured vinaigrette over her salad. "How was your appointment?"

He popped open his can of coke and took a sip before answering. "It was good. I still like Dr. Turner a lot more than Dr. Franklin. We had another good session today. Of course you are still the best doctor I ever had."

Michonne chuckled. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

Rick grinned. "I'll keep that in mind. So are we still on for this weekend?"

Michonne nodded as she swallowed a piece of salmon. "Mmhm. We just need to figure out what movie to see."

"I think it's Carl's turn to pick so we'll probably be seeing something with a lot of explosions and people fighting crime in tights."

Michonne laughed. "Hey don't hate on comic book movies, Rick."

"What? Is it too much to ask for the kid to ever pick a good western to watch?"

"When's the last time there's been a modern western made?"

"That's not the point."

She giggled. "You have to accept times are changing, old man."

He laughed along with her. "True. I've learned over these last few months that change can be very good."

She nodded at him. "That it can."

Rick took a bite of his burger. "How's your work week going?"

"Challenging, thought-provoking, fascinating, and as rewarding as usual."

"Still happy you went into business for yourself?"

Michonne nodded as she picked up a cherry tomato with her fork. "Immensely. I feel like I'm finally making a difference in my patients' lives without dealing with all the bureaucratic red tape."

Rick cocked his head to the side. "Well, I'm glad you dealt with that red tape for as long as you did or I may not be here with you right now."

Michonne leaned back in her chair and smirked at him. "Oh, we would had met, Richard. It was meant to be remember?"

He nodded with a sentimental smile on his face. "Yeah. It was. Speaking of Richard, how's Mrs. Haywood doing?"

"Now you know she'll get on you for calling her Mrs. Haywood. It's either Gran or Aldina. I talked to her yesterday and she asked about you. She said it's been too long since you and Carl came over for Sunday dinner."

"It has been. We need to do that soon. It's always a joy spending time with her."

There was another knock on the door, and the curly head of her assistant became visible again. "Sorry to interrupt Michonne, but you have a call from the Emory University Hospital. They said it was urgent."

Michonne nodded and closed her food container. "Okay. Tell them I'll be right there." She turned back to Rick. "Sorry to have to cut lunch short."

He wiped at his mouth with a napkin then looked at his watch. "I should be heading out anyway. My class starts in thirty minutes."

"Can't keep those students waiting." She stood and took a sip of her water.

"Yeah, I'm still surprised by how much I enjoy teaching. It feels good to train the cadets at the Academy. Like I'm really making a difference in helping them become good cops."

"I like seeing you so fulfilled."

Rick smiled. "Yeah, that's the word. I'm feeling very fulfilled right now." He stood too and leaned down to kiss her cheek again. "I'll call you to finalize the weekend plans."

She walked over to her desk and looked over her shoulder with a smile. "Looking forward to it."

* * *

Rick knocked on Michonne's apartment door at exactly 7:01 pm. His hair was combed back in neat waves. It didn't stop him from patting his head to make sure there were no stray hairs out of place. There was a small smile on his lips and his heart speed up with anticipation the same way it always did when he was about to see her.

The door swung open and Michonne stood there wearing a red, fitted long sleeved shirt, black slim pants, and black boots. Her dreads were down and all swept over one shoulder. The makeup was simple: only eyeliner, mascara and red lipstick.

Rick had to stop himself from gawking at her. "You look beautiful," he said instead. He could smell her perfume; the same one she wore most weekends. It was different from her Monday - Friday scent.

Michonne ducked her head down. She didn't know why she always felt shy when Rick complimented her. "Thanks," she said and opened the door wider. "Come on in."

He handed her the flowers as he walked past. "I noticed your new purple vase when we were here last weekend. Thought these flowers would look good in it."

She brought the bouquet to her nose to inhale the sweet fragrance. "You're always so thoughtful, Rick."

He shrugged his shoulders bashfully. "I like doing nice things for you. You deserve them." He took a seat on her couch. The beauty and neatness of her apartment was always comforting to him.

"Well, still thank you," she said softly before putting the flowers in the vase. Her hands worked on arranging them when she noticed someone missing. "Wait. Where's Carl?"

"He decided to go to a party instead. He's been hanging with this new girl at his school. She talked him into it. Then he's going to spend the night at his friend Charlie's house."

Michonne came over and sat next to him. "Ah, Enid. Yes, he told me about her." She gave a cute little pout. "My bud ditched me for young love. I knew it was bound to happen. Guess he doesn't want to hang out with us old folks anymore."

Rick scratched at his eyebrow. "I guess not. He's finally starting to get comfortable here."

"That's great. All jokes aside, I'm glad he's connecting with kids his age."

"I think he missed King County and his friends for awhile, but he's thriving now. Nothing makes me happier."

"I know. I can see it all over your face." She touched his hand as their eyes locked.

It happened more times than they could count over the past few months. The intensity was too deep to call it a moment; more like a stop in time as if they were in an isolated bubble. Their eyes wouldn't tear away from each other. Their breaths sped up. Carl was usually there to break the spell before it went on too long, but right then it was just them. Neither could move a muscle away from or towards each other until Rick's cell phone vibrated.

Rick chuckled nervously and pulled out his phone. "It's a text from Carl letting me know he made it to the party safely."

Michonne stood and rubbed the back of her neck. "Great. Um so shall we head to the theater?"

Rick ran a hand across his beard. "Yeah, lets go."

"Just let me get my jacket."

Rick watched Michonne as she walked down the hall to her bedroom. One she disappeared inside he turned towards her bay windows to stare at the panoramic view. His reflection was smiling back at him.

* * *

"Anything look good to you?" Rick asked.

Michonne sighed as studied the digital screen with the movie choices. "No, not really. I don't think this was a good week for movie releases."

Rick watched a bunch of loud teenagers bypass them to get in line. "Maybe we should do something else."

Michonne nodded. "I'm game. Where to?"

Rick looked around the busy downtown area. "This is your neighborhood. I'll follow your lead."

"Okay then. Lets just explore and see where the night take us."

The night scene in downtown Atlanta was always bustling. Saturday nights seemed to bring out the extra joy in people. The laughter and good cheer could be heard up and down the streets. People ducked in and out of restaurants and bars. Even some of the unique shops were still open.

Rick and Michonne walked through the streets taking in the scene; laughing and talking amongst themselves. The mood in the area was infectious. Michonne grabbed Rick's forearm to stop him in front of one of the bars.

"I haven't been here in ages. This is where I did all of my drinking during med school. I perfected my dart game here."

Rick raised an eyebrow; impressed. "Dart game, huh? Well I gotta see this. Let's go inside to put those skills to the test "

Michonne glanced at the entrance of the bar then looked back at Rick. She put her hands in her jacket pocket and shook her head. "No. We can go somewhere else. "

Rick took a step closer to her immediately knowing why she was hesitant. "It's okay, Michonne. Really. I appreciate your concern more than anything, but just because I decided not to drink anymore don't mean I can't go into a bar."

Michonne nodded, but still looked unsure. "I understand that. But your recovery has been going so well. I just don't want to do anything to hinder it."

He gripped her shoulder lightly. "You could never do that. I owe everything to you."

She nodded again, but this time with a smile. "Alright. I trust your judgment." She made a show of stretching out her hands. "So are you ready to get your butt whipped in darts."

"Ready and willing," he said with a smirk as he took her hand as she led him inside.

She looked back at him and shook her head. "Such the jokester Grimes."

A glass of white wine and two cokes later, Michonne was winning their impromptu darts tournament five games to zero.

Rick had the sleeves of his button down rolled up. He moved into his throwing stance - months of physical therapy helped him master using his left hand - and threw a dart that landed just below Michonne's. He bowed his head and laughed.

"When you said you mastered darts you weren't lying," he said.

Michonne pulled their darts out of the board. "Now you know I would never lie to you."

Rick leaned against a barstool and took a drink of his coke. "So how did you get so good? You couldn't have had that much free time during med school to practice."

"I didn't. I just made the time I did have worthwhile. It helped that I put a picture of whichever professor, doctor, or classmate was pissing me off that week on the bull's eye. Made my target every time," she smirked at him.

Rick cocked his head to the side and back upright again. "I guess that'll do it. Quite savvy."

Michonne did an exaggerated preen for him then motioned for the waitress. "You want another coke?" she asked Rick.

"Nah. Two's my limit. I'll take a bottle of water though. Just let me go to the restroom then we can start game six "

She gave him a high five as he walked past her. "It's on."

Michonne asked the waitress to bring two bottles of water then sat on the bar stool to wait for Rick. She felt her lips lift up in a smile. She checked the time on her cell phone and was happy that it was early. They still had plenty of time together.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned around thinking it was Rick back for their next round. The smiled dropped from her face as she looked at the man before her. A look of surprised quickly replaced it.

"Mike?" She stood up. "What are you doing here?"

He looked as if he was going to kiss her, but thought better of it and stepped back. "I'm in town for few days to attend my cousin's wedding."

"Oh," Michonne said still trying to process seeing him there. "Candace? Tell her congratulations for me."

Mike nodded and crossed his arms. "Yeah. I will. Her fiancé's bachelor's party is tonight." He gestured to the group of guys gathered at the bar behind them. "We're just hitting some bars …" He trailed off. An awkward silence hung in the air.

"So…um how's South Africa?"

"Good. It's good." He paused for a moment. "Would be better if you were there."

Michonne sighed. That was the dropped shoe was waiting for. "Mike, please."

He put his hands up. "Sorry. I know I shouldn't have said that. It's pretty clear from you not answering any of my emails for months that we're not getting back together. I just had to shoot my shot one last time." He looked at the two bottles of water next to her. "Are you here with somebody?"

Right on cue Rick walked up behind Michonne. "I'm back," he said softly.

Michonne turned around and met his eyes. "Oh, Rick. Hey. Um this is Mike."

Rick's eyebrows shot up recognizing the name.

"Mike this is my friend Rick."

The men shook hands. Mike took in how close the two of them were standing and nodded his head coming to an understanding. "I need to get back to the guys over there. You take care of yourself, Michonne "He stepped in to give her a hug.

She hugged him back briefly then pulled away. "You too. Mike."

She watched him walk away for a moment then turned back towards Rick. "Shall we continue?"

A look of apprehension crossed his face and he tapped his fingers on his thigh. "If you want to spend some more time with Mike I can just - "

"I don't," she cut him off and said with conviction. "I'm right where I want to be." She handed him the darts. "Now it's time to kick your ass again."

He took them from her and grinned. "I don't know. I feel like my luck is changing "

* * *

Rick helped Michonne slip her jacket back on. Once the garment was secure she turned to him with a teasing smile. "Final score twelve to zero. Wait until I tell Carl about this."

Rick watched as she skipped a few steps in front of him. He'd never seen her so giddy before. It was endearing. "There will be no telling Carl until we have a rematch."

Michonne shrugged. "Okay, if you want to lose horribly to me again. Be my guest."

"And here I thought I knew you so well. I wouldn't have ever guessed you had this trash talking side."

She skipped in a circle around him and he couldn't stop his laughter. "I guess tonight is going to be a night of discovery."

He intertwined their fingers together and squeezed her hand. "That works for me."

The two took off down the street; their arms swinging between them. As they paused on the curb to wait for the "walk" sign to appear, Michonne leaned in closer to Rick.

Throngs of people were gathered on the other side of the sidewalk. Rick and Michonne maneuvered around the crowd waiting to get into the latest hot club. At the end of the block where it was quieter doors to a bookstore stood open. A small swarm of people milled around the front lobby. A man stood near the door. Michonne smiled at him when he made eye contact with her.

"You two doing this?" The man asked.

"What exactly is going on?" Michonne asked as Rick took in the stage that was being set-up.

The man handed her a yellow flyer. "There's going to be some psychics and palm readers putting on a show. They're taking all types of questions. You know about career, money," he looked down at Rick and Michonne's still intertwined hands, "love. Anything about the future."

Michonne looked up at Rick - whose skeptical look probably matched her own. She knew most of the so-called experts at these types of events were charlatans "Are you game?" she asked Rick.

Rick let out a short chuckle. "Nah."

The man smirked at Rick. "You don't believe in the supernatural?"

Rick shook his head. "No, that's not it. Not at all. The last few months have proven the existence of certain things to me."

"Well it wouldn't hurt to get a little insight into the future," the man said.

Rick held onto Michonne's hand tighter. "You know, I'm having a good time in my present right now. I think the future can wait." He looked down at her. "You ready to continue exploring."

Michonne smiled up at him. "I'm ready."

She waved goodbye to the man as they left the shop. The temperature had dropped a few degrees since the beginning of the night. Rick noticed her shivering and slipped his jacket off to wrap it around her shoulders. He grabbed her hand again as they walked further through downtown.

A record store that had gone out business recently still had posters in the windows advertising a new Nina Simone box set. Michonne stopped in front of the window and gave a wistful sigh.

"My mom loved Nina Simone. I knew the words to _Sinnerman_ before I made it to kindergarten. In the third grade we had to do an oral paper on a famous person we admired and I picked Ms. Simone. I focused on the song _Mississippi Goddamn_. My teacher liked the report but I got in trouble for saying goddamn so many times. Mom, Dad, and Gran were proud though that I tackled the subject. "

"Always doing things your way huh?"

She shrugged. "It was how I was raised." She looked at the poster again. "It's fascinating how certain music reminds you of the past."

Rick nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. "Yeah. Certain songs remind me of my grandpa. He was a huge country music fan. Especially Willie Nelson. He was always singing _On The Road Again_ when I helped him out around the farm." A faraway smile lifted his lips slightly as a memory came to him. "I remember one time when I was fifteen a bunch guys came over to the farm. I pulled out what I thought was the best music. Had Willie, Hank, Johnny. They all looked at me like I was crazy when I turned on the stereo. Shane had the latest U2 and Aerosmith tapes with him to save me from humiliation. He made me promise to let him pick all the music from then on."

Michonne rubbed his arm in comfort. "Aw you poor thing. I would have gladly listened to your country music."

He gave her an incredulous look. "No you wouldn't. "

Michonne giggled. "You're right. I would have been mad you didn't have any Janet Jackson."

Rick shook his head. "I swear me, Dad, and Gramps were the only people in that small, southern town that liked country music. Always shocked me. I did convince Lori to play Willie Nelson's version of _Crazy_ for our first dance at our wedding though. She surprisingly loved it."

"It's nice you can still talk about and appreciate the good times with Shane and Lori," she said.

"It's all of that therapy. Pouring out my feelings each week. Guess you shrinks have your merits."

"Who would have thunk it," Michonne grinned.

He grinned back. "Yeah, who."

Michonne never had much time for dating. Not since her and Mike first started getting to know each other had she been on an official one. As she pulled Rick's jacket tighter around her and gazed at his profile it hit her how she'd had as much fun this night as she ever had on an official date. She hadn't had this much fun in a long time.

"...still in awe."

Michonne was so deep in her own head she missed what Rick was saying.

"In awe?" she asked.

"Yeah," he gestured at all the buildings and people. "Of all of this. I lived in King County my whole life until a few months ago. The fast pace of the city can be a little overwhelming, but in a good way."

"So you're still glad you're here?"

Rick stopped walking and faced her. "Like we said earlier this week, I'm fulfilled. I'm happy and grateful to be here. Especially here with you."

Michonne nodded and looked down then back up at him with a smile. "I don't know about you, but my legs are tired from all of this walking. There's a really great Italian restaurant across the street. Want to get some take out and go back to my apartment.

"Sounds perfect."

* * *

Michonne tossed the empty containers in the trash. "I'm stuffed," she said.

"Me too," Rick said as he cleared the dishes and silverware from her kitchen table. He walked over to the dishwasher to place them inside.

Michonne stood at the sink washing her hands. "Want to see if there's anything good on Netflix?"

He went into the living and picked up the remote. "You want a movie or watch another episode of that show? What was it again?"

" _Orphan Black"_ , she said as she joined him on the couch. "But we can't watch the next episode without Carl."

"He chose to ditch us. You snooze, you lose."

Michonne grabbed the remote from his hand. "Cold blooded. If you say things like that in front of his friends no wonder he ditched us, old man."

"You're probably right," he said as he took off his boots. He gave a content sigh and leaned back. "Okay so lets watch a movie "

Michonne scrolled through the choices. "What are you in the mood for?"

Rick's head was comfortably indented on the couch cushion. He turned towards her. "You pick. I'll watch whatever."

"You said that before and you fell asleep before the opening credits were done."

He grinned sheepishly. "True, but in my defense it was a French film and these eyes of mine aren't that great with subtitles."

Michonne pursed her lips. "Fair enough. Something in English then."

Rick kept his head towards her and watched as she intently tried to find a movie. Every time he saw her he didn't think she could look more beautiful then she always proved him wrong the next time he laid eyes on her. The girl of his dreams. There never was a more apt description. His Gramps used to tell him he had to pray daily. He'd stopped that practice a long time ago. But lately he's been thanking whoever was pulling the strings up there every chance he could for her. For making the girl of his dreams the only woman he wanted in his life.

"Oh, they have that old Sandra Bullock flick, _Hope Floats_. I used to love that movie. Want to watch it?" She looked her at him noticing the dreamy smile he had on his face. "What?" she asked.

"Hmm?" he said as he came out of his reverie.

"What were you thinking about?" she asked softly.

He moved closer to her. "That _Hope Floats_ is an excellent movie."

She gave him a suspicious look. "Yeah, right."

He responded by putting his arm around her. She let go of her suspicion and laid her head on his shoulder and snuggled in close. He kissed her forehead as she started the movie.

* * *

When Rick opened his eyes the room was darker than usual. Neither one had made it to the end of the movie. Netflix had autoplayed into another one. Michonne's head was still on his shoulder. His movements caused her to stir. She wiped at her eyes and sat up.

"I guess we both missed the end of the movie," she said her voice a deeper tone from sleep.

Rick stretched his stiff body. "Seems like it." He looked at his watch. It was after midnight. He checked his phone and was relieved to see another text message from Carl letting Rick know he made it to his friend's house safely. He texted the teen back then leaned into the couch again.

"Sorry I overslept. I probably should head home." He reluctantly reached for his boots until he felt her hand on his.

She cleared her throat. "Don't. I mean if you don't want to you don't have to go."

He could make out her eyes in the darkness; searching them for what he hoped was a clear answer to the question in his heart. "I don't want to go," he swallowed hard; throat suddenly dry. "I want to stay with you. Always."

Michonne laughed self consciously and tossed her hair over her shoulder then looked back at him with certainty. She didn't want to hide what was in her heart anymore. "I want you here too. Always."

Rick cupped her cheek with his hand. "Then I'm staying," he said softly.

Both leaned in at the same time. Their lips met in a whisper of a kiss. They pulled away from at the same time; their eyes locked in the intense bubble. The second time their lips touched all of the dormant passion of two souls meant to be was unleashed.


	10. Chapter 10

"God…" Michonne breathe out as her hands gripped Rick's soft curls. His tongue pushed deeper into her mouth making her feel as if she was drowning in ecstasy and never wanting to come up for air again. Soft sighs and moans filled the room as they lay on the couch; him on top of her. Their bodies pressed tightly together not letting a sliver of light or space come in between them.

His hands hovered around her face; the desire to touch her was warring with his brain nagging him that this was all too good to be true. He finally gave in and caressed down the length of her arms and back up again before putting a hesitant hand on her breast. When he was rewarded with an intensified moan he fondled her more eagerly.

Michonne's hands moved from his hair and held on tight to his waist. She gasped loudly as her hips grinded against his; feeling how much he wanted her. He moved from her mouth to her neck. His sucking and kissing the spot just above her collarbone made her back arch and her hands hold on to him more forcibly.

The moans of her pleasure soon gave way to groans of frustration when the feel of his lips and the weight of his body left her. She blinked rapidly - with a hand on her chest - trying to come down from her high. Rick moved to the edge of the sofa and sat with his head down trying to catch his breath. Michonne rose up, eased her body next to his and placed her steady hand over his trembling one. He didn't lift his head, but turned slightly in her direction.

"Are you okay?" Her voice was labored as she tried to catch her own breath.

He nodded. "Yeah…" He sounded rough. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yeah, I'm okay."

She rubbed his shoulder and watched him with concern. "Tell me, Rick."

He finally raised his head to look at her. The small smile he gave didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed. "It's...it's been a long time since…"

Michonne put a hand on his cheek. "We don't have to do anything tonight."

"It's just this is you and I want it to be perfect but my body doesn't...isn't..." He sighed. "I've recovered a lot, but my body doesn't exactly work the way it used to with all of the nerve damage and everythang with my hand….there's scars in a lot of places…"

Her hand moved to his hair as if a magnet was guiding it there. He closed his eyes and exhaled softly, loving the way she touched him. "Rick, none of that matters to me. It doesn't make me desire you any less."

He kissed her hand that wasn't lost in his thick curls. "You deserve the best."

"And I have him."

He just shook his head. "You're too good to me."

She took hold of his chin and turned his face towards her. "Don't do that, Rick. Don't put yourself down. You're just as good to me."

"It's easy to be." He chuckled to himself. "You probably guessed I don't have a lot of experience with women." He sighed again and looked her in the eye. "And you're just not any woman. You're the most amazing person I've ever met and you mean so much…" He paused. "I'm in love with you."

Michonne's hand stopped its ministrations as they stared into each other's eyes. She knew they'd been walking the path towards love for a while, but hearing those feelings verbalized made her heart contract. The sincerity in his eyes coupled with the heat she still fresh on her skin from their make-out session left her momentarily unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Rick...I - "

He cut her off. "You don't have to say it back. I just want you to know how I feel."

Getting her wits back about her, she moved her hand to his cheek again. "What if I feel the same?"

He looked down again; his head moving from side to side. "I don't think I can handle that tonight. I might curl into a ball and cry my eyes out if I heard those words from you right now." He joked, but it wasn't far from the truth.

Michonne looked at the man that meant so much to her too. She wanted take away all of his fears and worries. "Then tell me what you want, Rick."

He felt tears gather at the corner of his eyes. He wiped them away quickly. "Shit. I guess I don't need to hear those words to get emotional. It's not very manly to cry in front of the woman you were just kissing."

She kissed the corner of his mouth. "Being open and honest with your emotions is sexier than just about anything. It's totally turning me on."

He gave her a genuine smile. "Crying is sexy now? I really am out of practice."

"Not as sexy as the beard," she joked, "But it's pretty up there." Her finger traced the outline of his lips. "Tell me what you want," she said again.

He turned his whole body towards her. "I want...I want to make love to you." He leaned in and kissed her deeply. Their bodies instinctively picked up where they left off. He moved to lay her back down on the couch, but she stopped him with a hand to his chest.

Silently, she stood and took his hand before leading him down the hallway to her bedroom. She paused at the door and looked at him, "You sure?"

"About as sure as I ever been about anything."

The bedroom was dark. The only light sifted in from the moon through the sheer curtains. The soon to be lovers stood in front of her queen sized bed. Michonne started to slowly unbutton his shirt. His eyes never left her face as she focused at the task at hand. His breathing sped up as more and more of his skin became exposed. When the last button was released she pulled the garment open. The cool air was a relief to his skin that had become slick from sweat.

The feather touch of her fingertips roamed over the zigzagged line of scars that decorated the right side of his torso. He almost forgot how to breath when she bent down to kiss the marks. He closed his eyes as shallow breaths emitted out of him; feeling moisture gather in his eyes again. She lifted herself upright to slip the shirt off his shoulders. Her thumb wiped away his tears before she pulled off her blouse.

He bit his lip as she unhooked her black lace bra; letting it fall to the floor. His hands - no longer hesitant - cupped naked breasts savoring the feel of them before taking her right nipple into his mouth. Michonne body shuddered as she gripped his hair. Fate had finally blessed her with the intimacy of coming together with someone she truly loved down to her soul. Rick was making her feel so good she didn't know how much longer her legs would allow her to stand.

She pulled at the waist of his jeans eager to feel his naked skin against hers. She unclasped the button and pulled down the zipper. He wanted to rid himself of their clothes as much as she did. Each undressed quickly; clothes landing in a pile at their feet. Rick's body language still held some self-consciousness as they stood naked before each other.

She took his hands - kissing the scar on the palm of the right one - and placed them on her hips. Not wasting any time, he immediately moved them down to caress her ample backside. Touching her felt better than he could ever imagine. She brought her arms around his neck as they kissed again.

"I love you," he said to her.

"Still don't want me to say it?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

Michonne lay back on the bed and grabbed his hand to pull him on top of her. Flurried kisses and touches and the squeak of her bed were the only sounds in the room as they succumbed to the fervor of their need to become one.

"Am I dreaming, right now?" he whispered in her ear, but devoured her mouth once again before she could answer.

"Mmm," she moaned out as they came up for air. She reached down between their bodies to stroke his hardness and kissed his cheek when he gasped.

"Shit," he grunted out.

"Tell me if something hurts. We can go slow." Her fingernails made a trail down his back.

"No, this is good." He sucked on her bottom lip.

She pushed him over onto his back, and smiled down at him as she straddled his hips. He may not let her say the words, but the love she had for him was all over her face.

His hands stroked up and down her thighs as he looked up at her in awe. "You're perfect."

"I told you before that flattery will get you everywhere." She gave him a peck on the lips then reached into her nightstand for a condom.

Rick's heart beat faster in anticipation as he watched her open the wrapper. He gripped her thighs tighter as she rolled the latex down his hardness. Michonne then lay back on the bed, opening herself to him. He paused to take in how beautiful she looked - with her mussed hair fanned out on the pillow - before blanketing her with his body. She gently stroked his beard causing his lips to upturn into a smile. All coherent thought left their minds as he slowly guided himself inside her.

* * *

The stiffness in his body was always the most pronounced in the mornings after he awakened. He always had to take a few minutes to do the stretches he learned from his physical therapist. But that morning Rick felt better than he had in a long time as he lay spooned against Michonne's warm body. His hand rested on her stomach as he caressed the smooth skin.

After a few minutes of reveling in the feel of her, he noticed the first rays of sunlight creeping into the bedroom. He imagined the shadows that danced on the walls were in celebration on the two of them finally coming together. He laughed quietly at himself feeling both silly and amused at thinking such a thing.

Michonne began to stir in his arms. She sighed contently and wiped at her eyes. A smile blossomed on her face when she felt his lips on her shoulder.

"Mornin," he whispered in her ear.

"Good morning, yourself." She reached her hand back to stroke his hair before turning over to face him. He could see the mixture of glee and shyness in her eyes.

"What?" He asked with a smile.

"I'm still amazed by last night."

His smile grew wider. "It was pretty spectacular."

"Yeah, that's one way of putting it." Her hand ran down his torso. "How are you feeling?"

"Spectacular," he winked at her.

She giggled and hid her face in the crook of his neck and gave it a kiss. "I like the way you smell in the morning."

He chuckled and pulled her closer to him. "And I like...no love everything about you."

Michonne stopped her giggling and stared up at him. "Why don't you want me to say it back to you?"

He sighed and turned over on his back. "You'll think it's silly."

"You know me better than that."

He rubbed his hands down the side of his face. "I told you last night finally being with you felt like a dream. You being in love with me just as much as I am with you would mean the world to me." He looked up at the ceiling. "It's nowhere near logical but I keep thinking if I hear those words from you the spell will be broken. All of this would disappear, and I'll find myself back in my bed in King County hurting and lonely."

Michonne sat up in bed, the sheet covering her nakedness falling away, and grabbed his hand. "Oh, Rick." She leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lips. "This is not going away."

"Like I said, it's not logical. Dreaming of you back then was the only thing that brought me any joy. I can't take losing you. Losing this."

She pushed a fallen curl out of his face. "It's not a dream, Rick. We're right here. Right now."

"I know. But just give me a little while for this," he gestured between the two of them, "for us to sink in."

"Okay." She lay down again. "It does feel a bit surreal laying here naked with you."

"I hope surreal in a good way."

"In the best way."

He turned on his side and started rubbing circles on her hip. "You have any plans today?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes enjoying his touch "Not really. I was going to catch up on some work."

"Anything interesting?"

"I've been working on a book proposal."

He lifted his eyebrow. "Really?"

"Mmhm. I want to tell my mother's story. I think it would help families who are dealing with the same thing we did. My mom is the whole reason I became a doctor. I figured I could honor her memory while helping other families who are dealing with that disease."

Rick shook his head in awe. "I wish I could have met your parents. I want to thank them for creating such an incredible woman."

Michonne groaned then laughed. Rick laughed along with her.

"Yeah I know that was cheesy, but that's how I am when I'm in love."

She gave him a skeptical look. "So this is what I'm going to have to put up with from now on?"

He kissed her forehead. "Forever and ever if you'll have me."

She smiled softly at him. "I think I will "

He reached over to remove a tiny white string in her hair. "You really are amazing though."

She brought his hand to her lips. "I know I told flattery will get you everywhere, but you have to stop putting me on a pedestal, Rick."

He shrugged. "I'm not the one that made you perfect. Just callin' it like I see it."

"Rick, I have so many faults."

"Name one. Well besides snoring."

He laughed when she gave a light tap to his naked rear. "I do not snore." She was indignant.

"How would you know? You're sleep when it happens."

She flopped onto her back and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't snore," she muttered under her breath.

Rick propped his head up with one hand and on the other he used a finger to tap at her protruding lips. "Okay, fault number two is you pout when mad."

She playfully moved his hand away while laughing. "Ugh I can't stand you, Richard."

"Hey you're the one that wanted to talk about your faults."

"I'm now seeing the error of my ways."

He let his head drop back down to the pillow so they could be eye level. "Too late. You have to tell me all your faults."

She sighed. "Okay, okay." She scratched at her eyebrow. "I'm too much of a perfectionist at times."

"I can see that."

"I'm not the best cook."

"I was here for the burnt soup incident so knew that too."

She shook her head. "Such the comedian this morning."

He smiled mischievously at her. "The consequence of having great sex. I think I'm Don Rickles now."

"You and these 1962 references. Will you ever figure 2016 pop culture? That's one of your faults."

He cocked his head to the side and nodded. "Okay, I'll own up to that. Now tell me another one of yours."

"I have a hard time opening up to people sometimes."

"You've always been open with me."

"I have. It's one of the reasons I knew you were more special than just a friend. But I'm human. There might be times when old patterns rear their ugly head again."

He pulled her close. "Michonne, I know you're not perfect. I give you all this praise because I love you. Every part of you. The good and the bad. Me and Lori were failing at that whole marriage thang long before tragedy hit us. I don't want to make those same mistakes again. I want to make sure you know everyday how much I love and cherish you."

Michonne felt tears start to gather in her eyes. She choked down the lump in her throat and nodded. "Okay."

His hands started to roam over her body as he kissed her neck.

"Can I say it now?" She whispered in his ear as her hands circled his neck and tugged at the curls lying there.

"Not yet."

He pushed her onto her back and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Their hands and lips roamed each other's bodies with as much passion as the night before until the loud vibration of his cell phone stopped them cold.

He looked over to where it lay on the nightstand "That must be Carl."

Michonne sat up and pulled the sheet up to hide her naked torso. "Wait don't answer yet. You can't talk to Carl while we're in bed naked."

Rick chuckled. "He can't see us."

"You never know. All of these phones have cameras. You might hit the wrong button and the poor kid could see something that none of us wants him too." She jumped out of bed and dashed to the bathroom. "Okay you can answer now," she yelled behind the closed door.

Rick smiled at her antics and answered the phone. "Hey, Carl."

"Dad, are you okay?" The teen tried to mask his worry, but his father immediately picked up on it.

"I'm good, son. You make it back home okay?"

"Yeah, just go here. I thought you may have gone out this morning, but it doesn't look like you slept in your bed. And I know you don't make it up the first thing in the morning."

Rick chuckled. "No, I don't." He hesitated unsure how his son was going to take what he was about to say. "I spent the night at Michonne's."

"Oh."

He sat up hearing the curiosity in his son's voice. "We were watching a movie and fell asleep. It was late so I just stayed over." Not the whole truth, but the boy didn't need to know any more details.

"Oh," Carl said again.

"Everything okay, Carl?" He started to feel a nervous energy at the pit of his stomach.

"Yeah, it's cool." He paused. "I'm glad you're with Michonne. You sound...happy."

Rick could read between the lines and felt relieved. "Thanks, son. I am happy. I should be home soon."

"Take your time. I have pop tarts and video games. I'm good for the day."

"You're not gonna eat pop tarts all day long. I'll pick us up some lunch on the way home. Love you, Carl."

"Love you too, Dad."

Michonne peeked her head out of the bathroom door. "Is it safe now?"

He placed the phone back on the nightstand. "Yeah."

She stepped out of the bathroom, now wearing a robe, and walked over to the bed to sit next to Rick. "Everyday okay with him?"

He nodded. "I pretty sure he knows about us though."

Michonne's brow creased with worry. "And?"

"He's cool with it."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Good. I wouldn't want him to think I was trying to replace his mother or steal his father away."

"He wouldn't think that. He cares about you a lot."

"I know, but it's still a precarious situation. I love that kid. I don't want to do anything to hurt him."

Rick's love for her radiated off of him. After so much pain he still could hardly believe the light at the end of the tunnel shined brighter than he thought was possible.

She tilted her head to the side as he continued to stare at her with a goofy smile. "What?"

He played with the belt of her robe. "Just wondering what do I call you now?"

She gave him a confused grin. "Call me?"

"What's the lingo these days? Are you my girlfriend? Significant other? Are we going steady?"

"Steady, Rick?" she laughed.

He grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "I told you I don't have much experience with women."

She patted him on the cheek. "I think girlfriend works fine."

Rick nodded as he untied the belt of her robe. "Well, if my girlfriend is feeling up to it," he pulled open the garment and started caressing her bare skin, "we still have this big, warm bed here…"

Michonne slipped her robe all the way off and climbed onto his lap. "I like the way my boyfriend thinks."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Hello all! I'm both happy and sad to say that we've made it to the end of Rick and Michonne's supernatural journey. I'm so grateful to everyone who stuck around for months while I completed this story. It was so much fun to write and I'm going to miss these two in this AU world, but I think this is the right place to end it. I hope you enjoy this final chapter and again thank you for all of the comments, reviews, likes, and follows. They're greatly appreciated.

* * *

**4 Months Later**

The weather gods had given Georgia a reprieve from the usual stifling summer heat. The high noon temperature was a satisfying seventy-five degrees and the skies were a clear blue as far as the eye could see. A light breeze tossed Michonne's ponytail from left to right as she took in the surroundings. She inhaled a grateful breath at not having to breathe in humidity filled air.

Her eyes scanned the yellow grass and the falling apart house before her. A bulldozer was off to the side ready to destroy the property come Monday morning. Carl - with his hands deep in his pockets - slipped past her and maneuvered his slim body through the half-opened gate. She looked behind her at the sound of the beep of Rick locking his truck. He came to stand beside her and scanned the property as she had moments before.

"So this is it," she said.

Rick nodded. "Yeah this is my family's farm. Spent most of my summers here as a kid." He sighed. "I can't believe it finally sold."

She looked up to study his profile. There was sadness in his eyes. The sun shined down right on top of him making the gray hairs in his beard and on his head glow; almost giving him an ethereal quality. She took hold of his hand. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

He squeezed her hand back. "I have to be okay with it. Nothing else can be done. I knew it would never be in the family again." His eyes squinted as he took in the dilapidated property once more. "I just wanted to see it one last time before the contractors flatten everythang. I wanted you to see it too. It's not much to look at now, but it used to be beautiful."

She leaned into him. "I could tell from the pictures you showed me."

"I still have the memories. No use dwelling on what coulda been if I had the money to save the place. Besides," he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to his body to hug her from behind, "I have so much to be grateful for."

She turned her head to give him a peck on the lips. "Yes, you do."

He looked at his watch. "We don't have to be in Athens until 2:00. Then we should still make it to Kingsland by nightfall. I think I'll walk around one last time. Wanna come with?"

Michonne spied Carl moving towards the pond. "I think I'll hang with Carl."

He looked over to where his son was picking up rocks to throw into the small pond. He nodded then kissed Michonne on the temple. "I won't be long."

Michonne watched Rick walk in the opposite direction for a few moments before joining Carl.

"Check it out, Michonne. Somebody left a soccer ball over here." He kicked it over to her.

She picked the ball up with her hands and tossed it in the air a few times. "I played soccer for about a half a day when I was eight. Both me and my mom soon realized it wasn't for me. I did score one goal though." She tossed the ball back over to him. "But it was for the other team."

Carl laughed. "I played as a kid too. Was pretty good at it. Watch." He did a couple of impressive kicks with his foot and knee.

Michonne gave a golf clap. "Very nice."

"It's one of the few things I'm actually good at."

She waved a hand in the air. "None of that. You and your Dad have this bad habit of putting yourselves down. I'm not going allow that on my watch."

Carl looked down and tucked his long hair behind his ear. He had a sweet grin on his face. "Enid tells me the same thing."

Michonne loved how happy and shy he became when he talked of the teen girl. "So how are things with Enid?"

Carl blushed and ducked his head down even further. "She's cool."

She tilted her head the side and noticed his reddening cheeks "Ah, it seems like you're like her a lot."

He shrugged. "I like hanging out with her. She listens to cool music and reads comics."

"Sounds like girlfriend material to me. I liked her a lot when we all had dinner at you and your dad's place. She's a sweet girl. We should do that again soon."

"Enid likes you too. She said she never knew someone as old as you who knew so much about current pop culture."

Michonne put her hand over her heart. "Oh, that wounds. I'll have you kids know that I'm not that old."

"Dad is. He doesn't even really know how to use his smartphone."

She nodded in agreement. "True but he shines in many other ways."

Carl laughed. "Yeah, you're right." His mood then did a sudden u-turn and he looked contemplative.

Michonne laid a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I've just been wondering. Are you and Dad planning on moving in together or getting married anytime soon?"

Michonne's brows creased; surprised at the abrupt change of their conversation. "Carl, me and your dad have only been officially together a few months. I think it's a little soon to think about that."

"I know but I see how you guys are together. Dad always has a smile on his face and starts whistling and humming for no reason. I may be young but I understand things. I know you two will probably be together for a long time so I was wondering what's next."

Michonne watched him closely. She couldn't argue with his logic. She and Rick had gone full steam ahead to coupledom since their first night together. There was no denying that they were in it for the long haul. "And how do you feel about that? If me and your Dad were to move in together or get married?"

"It's cool."

Michonne shook her head as her lips lifted in small smile. "Its cool is your response to everything."

He shrugged. "Because things are cool."

"You're okay with me and your Dad taking those next steps?"

"You make Dad happy, Michonne. And he makes you happy too. Why wouldn't I want that?"

"Sometimes kids have a hard time when a parent starts a romantic relationship."

"It's not like Dad met you yesterday at Applebee's. You're family. It'll be weird if you weren't around."

Michonne stepped closer to him and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's important to me that you don't think I'm trying to replace your mom in any way."

"I know you're not." He looked out into the pond and started to skip the rocks across the dirty water. "I still miss her a lot." He looked over to Michonne. "Does that ever go away?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Unfortunately, it doesn't. It gets easier to live with but there's always a piece of your heart missing."

He nodded. "Sometimes I go days without thinking about her. Then a memory will hit me and I spend a while feeling guilty that I'd been living my life without a thought to her. I don't ever what to forget her."

Michonne's heart broke for the emotional pain he had to endure at not just losing a parent at a young age, but also the circumstances that led to her death. "I don't think you have to worry about that, Carl."

"Do you still think about your mom?"

She nodded. "I do."

"What's your favorite memory of her?

Michonne closed her eyes. "On Saturday mornings she would get up early to clean the house from top to bottom. She'd wake me and my brothers up to help. We were always grumpy about it of course. But then she'd open all of the windows to let the sunshine in and turn up the radio. All of us would spend the morning singing and dancing as we did our chores. We even had our own Soul Train line going." She bumped his shoulder with hers. "That's a reference way before your time." She put her hands into the pockets of her sundress. A distant smile was on her face. "That was her way. She could make any task so much fun."

Carl smiled at her memory. "Does it hurt to think about her?"

"Sometimes, but mostly those memories make me happy. The good she brought to my life outweigh all of the bad from her illness. What about your mom? What's your favorite memory?"

Carl started laughing. "No question, Sunday morning pancakes."

"Did she make good pancakes?"

He laughed harder "Nope. They were awful."

Michonne was confused, but his laugh was infectious. She couldn't help but to join him. "Why is it your favorite memory then?"

"Because it was the one time a week, especially those last couple of years, where we truly felt like a family. During the week I was always doing after school activities and Dad worked a lot. So we didn't see much of each other. On Sundays we were together. It was nice. We laughed and talked. Dad and I gave each other looks behind Mom's back because of how bad the pancakes tasted, but we ate them anyway because it made her happy. I miss seeing her happy. Do you think she's happy now?"

"I think she's at peace now. I think her soul can rest knowing you and your Dad are doing well. And I think the fact you're growing up into this wonderful young man makes her so proud."

"Maybe they're together."

Michonne raised an eyebrow at him.

"My mom and your mom," he clarified. "Maybe they're together looking down on us. Happy that we found each other."

She put an arm around him for a side hug. "Yeah your mom is definitely brimming over with pride for you. You're a great kid, Carl."

His cheeks turned even redder this time as he hugged her back. "Thanks, Michonne."

She looked over her shoulder and saw Rick walking back towards the gate. "I think your dad is ready to go."

Carl tossed the rest of the rocks into the pond and picked up the soccer ball.

"It'll be cool if you and Dad had a baby too," he said as they started walking.

Michonne stopped and put her hands on her hips. "Okay now you're really thinking too far ahead."

He ignored her words and kept talking. "A girl would be cool. I know Dad really wanted a daughter. A little sister would be fun. I could teach her how to play soccer and fish and what to do to get anything she wanted from Dad."

Michonne caught up to him and grabbed his arm. "Carl have you heard the phrase 'slow your roll'?"

He looked at her with that crooked smile he had when he was amused. "I don't think so."

She put her arm around his shoulders again. "Well my friend I'm going to need you to learn it, live it, and stop all of this baby talk madness right now."

The two were laughing when they met back up with Rick at the gate. He beamed at the most important people in his life; always grateful for their easy and heartfelt bond.

He clapped Carl on the shoulder then put his arm around Michonne's waist. "What's so funny?" He asked.

Michonne beamed back at him. "I'll tell you later. Lets go. We need to pick up Gran."

* * *

The beach in Kingsland was full of people enjoying another atypical beautiful day. Kids ran around with their shouts of glee creating a soundtrack of summertime joy. Carl had coaxed Michonne into playing a pick-up soccer game with a couple of college coeds which they were losing.

A few feet away Rick unfolded a beach chair and sat it in the sand in front of the blanket. Gran watched him with a smile on her face as he worked to position it just right. Once he was done he took her hand and helped her sit.

"I may be an old woman, Richard, but I ain't decrepit yet. I can sit down myself."

"I know Mrs.," she gives him a look. "I mean Gran. I just want to make sure you're comfortable."

Gran settled into the chair and sighed in contentment while sinking her bare feet into the warm sand. She adjusted her straw hat and smirked at Rick. "You remind me of my third husband Curtis."

Rick had started taking the food out of the picnic basket, but stopped to look up at Gran. "How so?"

"He was a southern gentleman too. Nicest man you could ever meet. Always more worried about how he could help others before helping himself. I think I loved him the most out of all of my husbands."

He settled down on the blanket. "Sounds like a good man. Honored I remind you of him."

Gran took out a mini, portable fan from her matching straw bag. "You're a good man too, Richard. A very good man."

Rick nodded and blushed under his tanned skin. "Thank you, Gran." He went back to emptying the picnic basket. "So why did you marry so many times?"

"I unfortunately outlived each of my husbands. When one died there was always many other suitors begging for my hand in marriage."

"I bet you were a heartbreaker."

"Oh, no doubt, Richard." Gran stretched her arms out wide. "As I'm sure you can see I'm very irresistible. You should have seen me back in the day though. Just fine for no reason."

Rick chuckled and shook his head. "Love you, Gran. You're one in a million."

"Love you too, Richard. And I especially love how happy you make my granddaughter. Michonne is the light of my life. I'm glad she finally has someone to love her in the way she deserves."

Rick looked over to where Michonne and Carl were laughing and high fiving each other after scoring a goal. "She's the light of my life too."

"She's been hurt a lot. Can I trust you not to bring her anymore undue pain?" Her tone and body language had become strictly no nonsense.

Rick rose to his knees in front of Gran. He took her hand in his. "The only thang I want to do from now on is bring joy and happiness to Michonne and Carl. I'll do everythang I can not to ever see either of them hurt again."

Gran patted his hand. "That's what I want to hear. Now just a warning. If you ever do hurt her you gon' have to answer to the ancestors, and they can be a vengeful lot."

Rick grinned at her. "I'll take that warning very seriously."

"You better. Now talk to me, Richard. Has anything else other worldly happened to you lately?"

Rick shook his head and handed her a bottle of water. "No, ma'am. Just been living my earthly life."

Gran settled back in her chair and took a sip of water. "That's good. Most people don't constantly have supernatural things happen to them. You've learned the lessons you needed to learn."

"Does that mean life is going to be smooth sailing from now on?"

"One can only hope, Richard. I can always do a tarot reading on you again. See what the cards say about your future."

He shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked at her. "I think I'll pass on that, Gran. I like just living in the present these days."

"Not a bad way to live. I respect you for that." She looked at him up and down. "You really are a changed man. Your brokenness radiated off of you the first time we met. Now I see a strong and happy man."

His eyes followed the woman he loved as she ran across the sand. He never could go too long without watching her if she was in his presence. "Michonne changed my life."

"No question Michonne did a lot for you, but you had to want it and do the work. And you did. I'm proud of you."

Rick scratched at his eyebrow and looked down trying to come up with the words that could express what he was feeling. "That means a lot coming from you. I don't have much family anymore, and the way you've welcomed me and Carl into yours means much more than you could ever know."

Gran tilted her head to the side and smirked at him. "Oh, Richard I know. Trust me, I know."

Rick laughed. "Of course you do. You know everythang."

"Not everything, but enough."

Michonne and Carl walked up to them then; both sweaty and slightly out of breath.

"I don't know what you two were talking about, but it is true that Gran knows everything." Michonne bent down to kiss her grandmother on the cheek. "You're not too hot are you, Gran?"

"I'm fine, sweet girl. Just having a pleasant time talking to Richard."

Michonne sat down on the blanket between Rick's legs. He handed her a bottle of water and kissed her cheek.

"Did you guys win?" Rick asked.

Michonne leaned back into his chest. "Nope. Lost horribly, 6-1. And these knees of mine are not used to running on sand. They're yelling at me."

Rick rubbed her arm and whispered into her ear. "We can soak in a hot bath tonight."

She looked at him and felt a chill of anticipation run through her at the look in his eyes. "Looking forward to it," she whispered back.

Gran cleared her throat to break the spell. Their whispered words couldn't be heard over the sounds around the beach, but the look in their eyes said it all. She chuckled at the sheepish expressions on their faces. "The beginning stages of love is beautiful to behold."

Rick held Michonne closer and kissed her shoulder. "It certainly is."

Carl looked over at Gran. "They're always like this." He shook his head in mock reproach.

Michonne untangled herself from Rick. "Says the guy who's young and in love."

"Michonne," he groaned. His teenage whine carried above the noise.

She laughed and tossed him a sandwich then started handing out food to everyone. They settled into comfortable conversation as they ate their lunch.

Carl gulped down a can of Coke and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Gran have you ever been to a haunted house? Like a real live one. Not a fake Halloween one."

She paused in eating her fruit salad and looked curiously at him. "I've been to a couple. Why do you ask, child?"

He tossed the Coke can in the trash bin next to them. "I want to go to one."

Rick was surprised. "Where did that come from, Carl?"

"I've been reading about them online. Thought it would be cool to see one in person."

Gran beckoned the teen to come sit next to her. "Fact is I don't like haunted houses much. A spirit knows when they want to contact you. No need to go looking for them where they dwell. It's only opening yourself to a spirit that may get mad at you for disturbing him."

"It's just that I'm becoming really into all of this supernatural stuff. I want to learn more. What about an Ouija board? Are those good to use?" He asked.

Michonne waved her hands in the air in the "abort mission" gesture. "Oh, no don't say Ouija board, Carl. Trust me you don't want those problems."

"Michonne knows what she speaks," Gran said. "My cousin Sherman tried to contact spirits before with that board. Bad things happened to him for years. Some mean spirit latched on and wouldn't let go."

"What happened to him?" Carl asked

"We had to do a few rituals, but we finally got it out of there. He's fine now. Scared of his own shadow though."

Carl looked resigned to the fact that a haunted house wouldn't be in his future. "Okay I'll stay away."

Gran nodded. "Good boy. What you can do is come to my house and I can teach you about spirits and other things the right way. Nothing wrong with having an interest in them but you must be respectful. Bring your girlfriend if you want."

"Cool. Thanks, Gran. She'd love that."

"Now speaking of Sherman," She turned towards Michonne, "He called me the other day. Said he was going to be at the family reunion."

Michonne sat her straighter; excited. "Oh, yes! I forgot that was coming up." She turned towards Rick. "You and Carl have to be there. I can't wait for you to finally meet my brothers and the rest of the family. A couple of my nephews are the same age as Carl. I know they'll all get along so well."

Rick smiled at her enthusiasm. "I can't wait."

The chatter of Michonne, Gran, and Carl talking about the reunion faded to the background as he looked up into the sky and gave thanks for all he'd gained in life.

* * *

"Lean forward." Rick took the warm, soapy washcloth and squeezed the excess water down Michonne's back.

She hugged her knees and moaned as the heat hit her skin. "That feels so good."

Rick repeated the gesture once more then rinsed the towel to squeeze clear water down her back. He tossed the towel back into the tub then ran his hands up and down her back, massaging the muscles.

"How does your skin always feel like silk," he muttered.

"That's one of those secrets a woman will never tell." She sighed when he hit a particular sore spot. "God, yes, Rick."

He kissed her earlobe. "I like hearing you say that no matter the context."

She chuckled. "You do like making me feel good."

His hands moved to massaging her shoulders."Love making you feel good," he corrected. He moved the fingers on his left hand deep into her muscles. "All of this tightness didn't just come from you playing soccer this afternoon. You've been stressed lately?"

She turned her head to the side to let him properly work on the right portion of her neck. "Work has been a lot these past few weeks. Between the new contract at the VA Hospital and working on the book I've been on overdrive."

"Yeah, I noticed. You should slow down a bit, baby."

Michonne smiled. He'd recently out of the blue started calling her baby. She couldn't say she didn't like it. "That's why I wanted to take this mini family vacation. I needed a breather."

"Then why were you hard at work on your laptop before our bath?"

"I didn't think you saw that." She shrugged. "I'm a workaholic. One of my flaws."

"I know, but I love you anyway."

She turned her head to grin at him. "I love you too."

Rick pulled her body back so she was against his chest again. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing those words from you."

"Took you long enough to let me say them."

"Thinking this was all too good to be true is one of my flaws."

She kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'll still take you. Flaws and all."

He ran his hands down her slick arms and breathed in the sweet smell of her dreads that were piled on top of her head in a loose bun.

She took his right hand and kissed the scar on the palm as she was wont to do. "I think if we could stay in this tub the rest of the night I'd be a happy woman."

"That would be nice, but the water is going to turn cold soon and we'd look like prunes."

"You didn't have to ruin my fantasy, Rick."

He chuckled. "Sorry, baby."

She sat her leg on the edge of the tub and he took the washcloth to wash the smooth skin. Her head rested at the crook of his neck.

"It's a full moon tonight, you know," she said.

"So we should beware of werewolves?"

She laughed softly and playfully tapped his knee. "No. It means that we're all at the height of power, clarity, and obtainment of desire. It's the end of a cycle and it's time to celebrate."

He wiped the washcloth down her thigh. "Obtainment of desire sounds like a good way to celebrate to me," he whispered in her ear.

"Mmhm." She lifted herself up and climbed out of the tub.

"Hey, where are you going," he protested. "The water's not cold yet."

She stood on the tiled bathroom floor with water dripping down her naked body. Rick bit his lip as he gazed upon her. The sun had kissed her body beautifully making her look like an incredible piece of artwork worthy of display at the Louvre.

"Since my bath fantasy won't be happening I figure we can try for new ones in bed." Without waiting for his response she spun gracefully and walked into the connecting bedroom of their rental house.

Rick wasted no time climbing out of the tub and meeting her by the bed. She let out a shriek when he picked her up and tossed her on the mattress before covering her body with his.

"Rick, you're going to hurt yourself." She listened for any sounds out in the hall hoping neither Carl nor Gran heard her.

"You don't weigh that much and the physical therapy made me stronger than I look." He started kissing her neck.

Her hands soon found their way to his hair. "We need to be quiet though. Gran's and Carl's rooms are just down the hall."

"They can't hear us." He moved down to kiss her breasts

A moan escaped her mouth before she had time to clamp it down. "You don't know that," She managed to get out.

"I'm sure they're sleeping." She moaned again when he slipped his hand down to the middle of her thighs to feel her slick wetness. She was about to give up trying to be quiet when they heard a door open and hard footsteps walking towards the kitchen.

"I told you so," she whispered to him. It was obvious the footsteps belonged to Carl.

He just winked at her as they waited for the boy to go back to his room. A cabinet opened and closed. The faucet turned on and off. Then footsteps could be heard going back down the hall. Finally, the close of his bedroom door.

Michonne exhaled the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Okay, we have to be quiet."

"I'm not the one who's been making all of the noise."

She giggled. "That's not the point." She opened her legs wider. "Now where were we?"

He grinned at her then moved down her body kissing every part he could along the way. "I think just about here."

**xxx**

"Rick, Rick. Wake up." He felt his body shake. He looked up - groggy and laying on his stomach - at Michonne standing above him dressed in a tank top and shorts.

He sat up and looked at the clock. It was 12:36 am. A slight panic set in. "Is something wrong? Why are you dressed?"

She shook her head and smiled. "Everything's fine. I just need you to get up and get dressed. We're going on a road trip."

"Road trip?" He scratched at his head full of messy curls, confused. "We're already on vacation, baby."

"Not a road trip in the traditional sense. More like a walk down the block."

Rick was still confused. "At midnight? What's going on?"

Michonne put her hands on her hips. "Just trust me, Rick." She slung her beach bag over her shoulder.

Rick threw the covers back and got out of bed. "Okay, okay. You know I trust you."

Twenty minutes later they walked down the sidewalk with the light of the full moon helping guide their way. Rick finally recognized where they were headed when they stepped onto one of the many piers littered around Kingsland. It was the pier where they connected on a level higher than friendship for the first time all of those months ago. He let Michonne lead him to the end, and they sat with their feet hanging off the edge.

"Why did you want to come out here now?" He asked her.

"Do you what today is?"

He grabbed her hand. "One year to the date of the first time we met."

She smiled and tucked a loc behind her ear. "I should have known you would remember."

"How could I forget the day that changed my life?"

"It changed mine too. I didn't know I'd find my perfectly flawed man when I agreed to take over Dr. Franklin's patients."

"And I didn't know I would find my soul mate, my salvation when I walked into your office."

Michonne felt her eyes tear up and she tried to fan them away. "This is supposed to be a celebration and you're making me cry."

He kissed her on the forehead. "It's the truth. I may have survived that night, but a part of me died in that ditch. I was a shell of a person until you helped put me back together. There's no doubt in my mind I'm going to love you forever."

The tears ran down her cheeks as she clutched his face. "Forever sounds wonderful." They leaned in to each other and kissed deeply.

Michonne wiped her eyes after they pulled away. "Okay enough with the tears. Lets celebrate. I wanted to come here now so it could just be me, you and the moon without any distractions."

Rick held up his hand. "Before we start I did get you something for our anniversary. I'd planned to give it to you over breakfast, but since we're out here…" He pulled out a small, purple box from his pocket.

Michonne held the box in the palm of her hand for a moment before pulling off the white ribbon. Inside was a beautiful, handcrafted replica of a bridge.

"It's for your dream," he explained. "You couldn't cross the bridge to your destiny because you were afraid. Now we're here and there's nothing to fear anymore."

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. "I love it and I love you."

He held on to her just as tight. "I love you so much, Michonne."

She pulled back and laughed. "I wasn't expecting to get this emotional."

He grinned. "My fault." He rubbed her back. "Lets get to the celebrating."

"I have a treat." She pulled out a bottle of pink champagne from her beach bag and two plastic cups.

Rick chuckled and shook his head as took the bottle from her hands. "I thought we swore off this."

"I know, but it seemed appropriate for tonight. I think it's our anniversary drink now."

Rick popped the cork and a stream of champagne dripped down the bottle. He filled both cups and handed one to Michonne. Each held up theirs in a toast.

"Here's to meant to be," Rick said.

"Here's to finding your destiny," Michonne said.

They clinked the cups together; sealing themselves to each other for a lifetime and beyond.


End file.
